The Sorting Ceremony continued amid an eerie silence.
Sagreles leaned back in the high-backed chair at the staff table, his gray eyes sweeping indifferently over each new student.
The Great Hall contained only the Sorting Hat's announcements and the students' applause—the students at the Slytherin table were all tense, even breathing carefully.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Gilderoy Lockhart suddenly leaned over, his golden curls swaying wildly with his exaggerated movements.
He lowered his voice, but could not hide the excitement in his tone. "Sagreles, you really know how to make an entrance. That move just now was... was..."
He racked his brains for an adjective, the medals on his chest jingling.
Sagreles raised his crystal goblet and took a small sip of mead, too lazy even to spare him a glance.
"But if you ask me," Lockhart persisted, leaning even closer, his heavy perfume making people dizzy, "your line could have been more imposing. If it were me—"
He suddenly sat upright and struck a theatrical pose. "I would have said this: 'In Merlin's name, I shall show you what true discipline is!' Then I'd wave my wand like this..."
Sagreles ignored him completely. Without a word, he set down his goblet and rose to leave, not even sparing a glance for the chattering colleague beside him.
"Wait, where are you going? I haven't finished—" Lockhart's voice abruptly cut off.
Without looking back, Sagreles snapped his fingers and hit him with a Langlock. He strode toward the side door as though the blond professor flailing behind him were nothing more than air.
Time flowed quietly on. In the blink of an eye, Sagreleswarts welcomed its first resit season since its founding.
Yes, resits! There had never been any before, but there were now.
Sagreles stood in the classroom, his long fingers