One afternoon, as Kestrel hummed a tune once more, returning contentedly to her office after an eleventh failed mediation witnessing, she looked up to find Sagres standing at her office door.
The lingering sunlight from the stained-glass window cast his tall figure into a long shadow, stretching across nearly half the corridor.
In his hand, he held a thick stack of parchment reports, each marked with "Witness: Professor Iresa Lumina" and "Mediation Result: Not Reached."
The corridor was unusually quiet, the air seeming to solidify under a heavy pressure.
Sagres slowly turned around, his cold gray eyes locking directly onto Kestrel.
He didn't speak. He simply lifted the stack of parchment slightly—a small gesture that instantly froze Kestrel's smile.
On his handsome yet expressionless face, there was no anger, only a calm that pierced through all pretenses.
"Professor Lumina, our 'best Professor at Hogwarts!'" His voice was steady, utterly devoid of emotion. "Perhaps you could explain…"
He paused, his gaze drifting over the repeated signatures and identical outcomes on the reports, "this unique… art of mediation, and its 'significant' impact on the efficiency of Apology Order enforcement?"
Kestrel's smile vanished. A flicker of unexpected panic crossed her usually bright and mischievous eyes.
The moment she saw Sagres at her door, she knew the game was over.
Her little self-congratulatory "cleverness" had been completely transparent to him all along.
"Oh, wasn't I just trying to make everyone happy?" Kestrel spread her hands, a bright yet slightly fawning smile plastered on her face. "Look how good it is now—everyone's so happy! (〜￣▽￣)〜"
"Is that so?" Sagres replied expressionlessly. "I think you're the happiest one."
"I… I was just trying to help you resolve their conflicts!" Kestrel's confidence wavered, her voice softening. "The conflicts are almost resolved now. Tomorrow! Tomorrow I'll make sure everyone's mediation is successful!"
Sagres's brow furrowed further, his gaze sweeping across her face, which practically shouted I'm innocent!
"Your daily course load isn't any lighter than mine. Even if you don't assign homework, you shouldn't be this idle, should you?"
"Hey—I haven't been slacking off!" Kestrel snapped, straightening her back like her tail had been stepped on. "The students are learning really well! Their Shield Charm, Obstacle Curse, and even some counter-curses are quite good! If you don't believe me, you can check—"
"I know…" Sagres interrupted, the faintest trace of disdain in his voice. "I know the students' defensive magic has improved significantly. But I wasn't talking about them. I was talking about you."
He paused, his gaze settling heavily on Kestrel, finally letting out an almost inaudible sigh.
"What about me?" Kestrel muttered, a hint of defiance in her voice. "I'm doing a good job as a Professor, and I'm teaching my students well…"
"You're too idle," Sagres said sharply, then stated his demand without hesitation. "Coincidentally, there's something I need you for."
"What is it?" Kestrel immediately became wary, trying to deflect. "I've been really busy lately—"
Sagres's brows furrowed again. "Didn't you say all mediations would be successful tomorrow? What exactly are you so busy with after that?"
"Uh… oh, right! I forgot!"
Kestrel immediately changed her tune with astonishing speed, her expression shifting into that of a rogue who'd accepted her fate. "Then I'm free now."
Sagres ignored her antics and got straight to the point. "I want to build a dueling arena next to the Quidditch Pitch, large enough to accommodate the entire school. You'll help with that."
"Ah—?" Kestrel drawled, her face full of reluctance.
"What 'ah'?" Sagres looked at her calmly, his gaze exerting invisible pressure. "Unwilling?"
"Willing! Very willing!"
Kestrel instantly straightened up, forcing a wide, exaggerated smile. "I've just been waiting for you to give me something to do! I couldn't be happier!"
"Wait for my notice." Sagres didn't spare her another glance as he turned and walked away decisively.
…
Sagres didn't bother writing a long report. Instead, he knocked directly on the headmaster's office door.
Inside, Dumbledore was holding a plate of Fizzing Whizbees, his blue eyes twinkling with quiet understanding behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Ah, Sagres," Dumbledore greeted warmly. "Would you like a sweet? I find they help one think more clearly…"
Sagres waved his hand in refusal. "Headmaster, I presume you've already noticed the overly fervent dueling enthusiasm spreading through the castle—and the chaos that has come with it."
"Indeed, Sagres, it's hard not to notice…" Dumbledore replied gently. "But isn't this precisely what you wished to see? And I have no doubt that before you even knocked, you already had a complete plan in mind."
He gave a sly wink. "Your dueling leaderboard and dueling badge concepts are quite ingenious; even an old man like me couldn't resist applying for one…"
As he spoke, he pulled a simple iron badge from the pocket of his velvet robe. It shimmered faintly in the firelight.
"A very clever magical creation," Dumbledore praised, weighing the badge in his palm. "The basic point-tracking function goes without saying, but what's even more remarkable is that it can… hmm… vaguely sense the wearer's intent? Any malicious attempt to cast a spell is immediately exposed by it…"
"But this still isn't enough, Headmaster." Sagres's gaze remained calm. "Corridors and unused classrooms cannot provide a truly safe environment for actual combat. The students need a fixed, standardized space designed specifically for dueling."
As he spoke, he pushed a rolled-up parchment across the desk toward Dumbledore.
The blueprint automatically unrolled on the mahogany surface, revealing a massive circular platform suspended at the edge of the Quidditch Pitch. At its center stood an ancient stone tablet, while around the perimeter, densely packed magical seating rose like towering spires.
At the top of the parchment, in bold lettering, was written: Contract Dueling Arena.
Beside it, the description read:
A powerful, permanent dueling domain constructed around the Dueling Spirit Tablet as its core. It will possess:
1) Absolute Protection: Stronger than temporary domains, capable of completely absorbing and transforming stray spell energy, ensuring absolute safety for both spectators and spellcasters.
2) Environmental Simulation: Can generate simple obstacles or terrain changes (sandy ground, low walls, shallow puddles) at the challenger's request, adding variables to actual combat.
3) Panoramic Projection: Images of exciting duels will be magnified and projected into the air around the arena, allowing distant spectators to clearly see every intricate spellcasting detail.
4) 'Cheer Magic' Amplifier: Concentrates and channels the audience's cheers into a powerful energy flow, creating random natural disasters for both dueling parties.
5) High-Tier Trial Ground: The High-Difficulty Solo Trials and Peak Arena challenges for dueling badge advancement will be held here permanently.
Dumbledore leaned over, carefully examining the blueprint, his fingers gently tracing the parchment's surface. Silence filled the office, broken only by the faint sound of Fawkes preening his feathers on his perch.
"A magnificent stage, Sagres," Dumbledore finally said, his eyes sparkling with admiration and thought. "It perfectly brings your vision to life. Safety, fairness… and most importantly—visibility. Sunlight is the best disinfectant; a public arena and dueling badges will expose ambushes in the shadows."
He picked up a new sweet and popped it into his mouth.
"I approve. The site will be on the east side of the Quidditch Pitch. It has an open view, won't interfere with regular Quidditch training, and is closer to the castle, making it convenient for students to come and go."
He looked up at Sagres and added, "During the construction process, for any assistance needed, the entire staff of Hogwarts will be your strong support."
Sagres bowed slightly and responded concisely, "Understood, Headmaster."
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