As Augustus strolled into the Great Hall, he noticed Ron Weasley at the Gryffindor table surrounded by younger students, eagerly bombarding him with questions about his encounter with Sirius Black.
"I heard Black is a giant over three meters tall, wielding the Spear of Longinus, with a hellhound at his side! As the only man to have seen him and survived, is it true, Senior Ron?" asked a wide-eyed, bespectacled young girl, her tone filled with awe.
"Well, not quite," Ron replied, clearly basking in the attention. He waved dismissively and began his tale with exaggerated confidence. "He's just an ordinary man, though he looked rather down and out. I was asleep when I heard the sound of tearing fabric. I thought I was dreaming, you know? But then there was a draft... I woke up to see one side of my bed curtain torn down. I turned over—and there he was, standing before me! He looked like a skeleton, a mass of filthy hair, and he was holding a long knife—at least twelve inches. He stared at me, I stared at him, and then I screamed. He ran off."
A skeptical girl with a calm demeanor spoke up bluntly, "Why would he run? Did he think he wasn't strong enough to defeat you, Senior Ron? Is that why he fled instead of ending your life?"
Ron coughed awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by her directness. He quickly recovered, puffing up his chest. "Well, I admit I'm not a match for him, but killing me wouldn't be as easy as you think. I've trained in the Dueling Club and learned a lot from Augustus himself. Sirius must have realized that taking me down would be a tough fight, so he decided not to risk it."
At the mention of Augustus, the surrounding first-years gasped in admiration. The idea that Ron had trained under such a legendary figure elevated his status in their eyes.
"Ah, Senior Ron," said a second-year boy, shaking his head. "You pale in comparison to Augustus. If it had been him facing Sirius, the matter would have been resolved in an instant. Sirius wouldn't stand a chance against him. What a pity."
"Get lost, you little brat!" Ron snapped, shoving the boy aside, his face flushed with annoyance. "Do you think facing Sirius is easy? Without mental fortitude and nerves of steel, even the slightest sign of fear would have seen me shredded to pieces. So, learn some respect. A senior is a senior for a reason!"
Another younger girl nodded in agreement. "Senior Ron has a point. Facing a murderer like Sirius Black requires incredible composure. Showing weakness could easily provoke him into killing. For us who lack Augustus's unparalleled skills, Senior Ron's advice is worth heeding."
Her calm tone carried weight, and the surrounding students nodded earnestly.
Ron seemed intrigued by her maturity. "You speak well. What's your name and which house are you in?"
"Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw," she replied nonchalantly before nodding politely and walking away.
Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Loki's amber eyes gleamed with amusement. "Looks like Weasley's enjoying his fifteen minutes of fame. Escaping Sirius Black is no small feat—he deserves some credit."
"Come on," said Thor with a scoff, "Anyone who understands the situation knows Sirius wasn't trying to kill Ron. If he had been, Ron wouldn't have had a chance to scream, let alone survive. Sirius would've finished him off in seconds."
Liliane nodded. "As purebloods, we all know Sirius is exceptionally powerful. Even among the Order of the Phoenix, few could surpass him. Killing someone like Ron wouldn't take any effort at all. Even for us, trained by Augustus, it's unlikely we could face Sirius directly at this stage. Of course, one day, he won't be a match for us."
Loki squinted, deep in thought. While his magical abilities might rival Sirius's, his lack of combat experience was a disadvantage. Facing someone who had lived through a war, mastered battle tactics, and honed nerves of steel would be a significant challenge.
"Don't underestimate seasoned fighters," Augustus advised, his tone steady. "While your magical prowess might rival Sirius's, his battlefield experience gives him a decisive edge. Never underestimate those who've survived such trials—none of them are ordinary."
Suddenly, owls began flying into the hall, delivering the morning mail. A massive barn owl landed in front of Neville Longbottom, holding a crimson envelope. Neville froze, his face turning pale.
Harry and Ron, seated across from him, recognized it immediately. "It's a Howler," Ron whispered. "Run, Neville!"
Neville didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing the envelope as though it were about to explode, he bolted out of the hall. Laughter erupted from the Slytherin table as the Howler began to unleash Neville's grandmother's furious reprimands, echoing through the entrance hall at an earsplitting volume.
Augustus chuckled softly but was soon distracted by movement outside the hall's window. A majestic peregrine falcon was speeding toward him, its presence causing the owls to scatter. The bird landed gracefully before Augustus, a deep blue envelope tied to its leg.
It was an unmistakable sign that something important had arrived.
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