HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

The little boy left the classroom almost simultaneously. The moment the door closed, a suppressed murmur of discussion rose in the classroom.

"Quiet."

These two words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing all the noise. "Mechanical mind" once again enveloped the classroom, and the students immediately refocused on the lesson in front of them.

……

……

The next morning, when Sagres returned to his simply furnished office from the library, he saw a copy of the Daily Prophet on his desk that had just been delivered.

The huge headline almost took up the entire front page:

Medical Miracle! St. Mungo's Breakthrough Over the Permanent Damage of the Crucifixion Curse! 21 People, Including the Longbottoms, Regain Consciousness!

Below the title is a photo: In a bright ward at St. Mungo's Hospital, Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Auror heroes who were driven to mental breakdown by the Death Eaters' Cruciatus Curse, still look sick, but their eyes are no longer empty and lost.

They held each other's hands tightly, with weak smiles on their faces. Neville stood between them, wiping away tears in the photo, but trying to force a smile.

The report details how Mirabella Rolson, a senior healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries, recreated an ancient soul-restoring spell after years of research, successfully reversing a condition previously identified as permanent mental damage.

The Longbottoms were among the first to receive the full treatment and achieve a breakthrough success.

The final paragraph of the report was worded with the characteristic caution and innuendo of an official body:

"...Given the groundbreaking significance of this breakthrough in the field of magical medicine, and the immense benefit it brings to victims of the Dark Arts, sources within the Ministry of Magic have revealed that Mirabella Rolson, the healer in charge of the research, is highly likely to be nominated for her 'groundbreaking contribution' and is expected to receive a Sir Merlin Medal (rank to be determined). Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge will make a formal statement on this matter this Thursday."

Sagles's gaze lingered for a moment on the passage about the Sir Merlin Medal.

His fingers unconsciously tapped lightly on the smooth mahogany tabletop, making a soft tapping sound.

It turns out that Neville's parents were among Hummingbird's patients, something he was unaware of.

There was no obvious joy or excitement on his face.

Deep down, he might have felt a sense of recognition for Neville's somewhat clumsy yet remarkably resilient student, as the Longbottoms recovered—the boy's suffering had finally taken a bright turn for the better.

But this recognition was well concealed beneath his usual composure.

As for the Order of Merlin, which was highlighted in the Daily Prophet and seemed poised to be revealed...

Sagres picked up the long-cooled black tea on the table and took a sip. The bitter taste spread across his tongue.

Medals? Honors?

A faint smile curved his lips, carrying a hint of knowing irony.

Neville's parents are back, which is good. A broken family has been reunited.

Saint Mungo's achievements? They are certainly commendable.

Merlin's Medal? A grand performance is about to begin.

He casually pushed the Daily Prophet, which reported on "medical miracles" and "medal speculations," to the corner of the table, and picked up a blank piece of parchment to begin writing a letter:

To Mr. Lyle Lupin

Mr. Lupin,

I hope you are well when this letter arrives.

Enclosed is a special package.

You'll find it contains Peeves, Hogwarts' resident troublemaker.

Perhaps it has recently had a sudden epiphany and wants to make some contribution to the development of the magical world, or perhaps it wants to leave the castle and experience the outside world.

In conclusion, at the request of all the teachers, students, and ghosts of Hogwarts, I have decided to temporarily send him away from the castle.

I was impressed by your previous research on the nature of harassing spirits, especially your conjectures about their energy core and location-specific anchoring mechanisms.

I believe that the vivid example of Pippi the Ghost may provide some unique practical data for your ongoing research.

Please observe freely—and hopefully, the great sacrifice of the mischievous ghost will not be in vain.

Important note: The seal on the bottle cap is temporary. Once the cap is removed, the bond between Peeves and the castle will immediately take effect, instantly pulling it back here.

Therefore, please limit your observations to non-invasive methods unless you wish it to return to Hogwarts immediately.

Best regards, and best wishes for your well-being.

Your sincere,

Sagres Greengrass

Office of Advanced Spell Theory and Practice

Sagres sorted the letters, put them and the ink bottle into a package, and then summoned Lochteus.

Having just seen the raven off, he was about to go see Professor McGonagall—the vice-principal had caught him locking Peeves in an ink bottle yesterday.

He felt it was necessary to inform the vice-principal, who was in charge of all of Hogwarts' finances.

After all, isn't Pikachu part of the school's property?

Chapter 163 Demanding Justice

Vice Principal's Office.

A somber atmosphere hung over Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They had just been solemnly summoned to Professor McGonagall's office.

When they saw Professor McGonagall in the office, along with Professor Snape, whose face was as dark as the bottom of a pot, and behind him, Pansy Parkinson, whose eyes were bloodshot, haggard, and filled with resentment, all three of them felt their hearts sink.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

Professor McGonagall's voice carried her usual sternness, but a subtle hint of worry could be detected if one listened carefully. "Miss Parkinson has made a serious accusation to her Dean, Professor Snape. She claims that for the past three days she has been tormented by some kind of... curse, unable to sleep at all. She suspects it is related to her chance encounter with the three of you in the hallway three days ago."

Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over the three of them. "She accused Miss Granger of casting some kind of illegal spell on her."

Snape's lips curled downwards, his two dark eyes, like unfathomable pools, fixed intently on Hermione: "Miss Parkinson has described in detail her agonizing experience—persistent, irresistible lucidity, a near-mental breakdown. This symptom…is quite unique. Miss Granger, do you have anything to explain? Or, Potter, Weasley, are you aware of it?"

Pansy stood behind Snape, trying to straighten her back, but her dark circles and slightly trembling body betrayed her weakness.

She glared at Hermione resentfully, her lips moving silently.

Hermione took a deep breath, about to retort, when the heavy oak door to the office was gently pushed open.

Sagles walked in.

He remained calm and composed, his dark gray robe impeccably tailored.

He seemed to be just passing by, his gaze calmly sweeping over the people in the room before finally settling on Snape and Pansy, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

“Good morning, everyone.” Sagres’s steady voice broke the tense silence in the room. “It seems you’re having a…interrogation?”

He leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the young wizards, pausing particularly when it passed over Pansy.

A hint of displeasure flashed in Snape's eyes: "This is a matter between Slytherin and Gryffindor students, and it has nothing to do with you, Professor Greengrass."

"Oh?"

Sagles drew out the last syllable, his gaze shifting to the haggard Pansy. "But this Miss Parkinson's condition looks truly worrying."

His tone, however, revealed not a trace of sympathy.

“Then, Professor McGonagall,” Sagles turned to the vice-principal, “what are the specific allegations? Did Miss Granger cast a curse on her? Where? When? What evidence is there?”

Snape scoffed: "Miss Parkinson's testimony is the evidence!"

“I’m sorry to disagree, Professor Snape,” Sagres retorted calmly. “One-sided accounts cannot be taken as evidence, after all, I suffered greatly from them when I was a student.”

Pansy's face turned even paler, and she looked at Snape for help.

Snape's face was so dark it could drip water: "Sagres, are you questioning my judgment?"

“I am only seeking justice and a complete chain of evidence, Professor Snape.” Sagres spoke calmly, looking at the young wizards present. “To punish one party based solely on accusations without solid evidence is not only unfair, but it also encourages baseless accusations.”

Professor McGonagall's tense expression eased slightly, and she cleared her throat: "Sagles is right, accusations need to be supported by evidence, Severus."

Snape, his face dark, pulled a small brown glass bottle from his wizarding robes. "Since you need evidence? Then let Granger be examined!"

A grotesque smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "A potent truth serum. Just three drops are all it takes to get the whole truth."

“I will absolutely not allow it!” Professor McGonagall said sternly. “I will never agree to you using truth serum on your students, Severus.”

Sagras glanced at Hermione, then at Pansy, as if he had thought of something, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Since both sides have their own version of events, and memories are so crucial, I have a suggestion that can resolve this mystery immediately."

He looked at Pansy with a sharp gaze. “Miss Parkinson, in order to prove that your accusations are not unfounded, and to clear Miss Granger’s name, or to confirm her guilt, are you willing to undergo a ‘memory screening’? I can extract your memory fragments about that conflict for everyone to see. Then, the truth will be clear.”

"No!"

Pansy almost screamed, her body jerking back, her face filled with terror. "No! Absolutely not!"

Her reaction was so intense that even Snape frowned and looked at her with a scrutinizing gaze.

Professor McGonagall's gaze also became unusually sharp.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, barely managing to suppress their laughter—they knew what Pansy was afraid of: the moment she revealed Mudblood's identity, it would be made public!

Sagles nodded slightly, as if Pansy's refusal was expected: "It seems Miss Parkinson has something to hold back on the 'truth'? Or perhaps she doesn't want certain details of her actions during that conflict to be made public?"

His tone was flat, but a hint of sarcasm could be heard in it.

Snape's cheek muscles twitched. He stared at Sagrais, his eyes filled with undisguised anger and disgust: "You're covering for him!"

“Is that so?” Sagrais replied expressionlessly. “And aren’t you the same?”

The office was deathly silent.

The magic threads of Legilimency had already thoroughly searched Pansy Parkinson's head, and Sagres was naturally aware of what the other party had done.

Professor McGonagall spoke up at the opportune moment, her voice regaining its usual authority: "Sagres is right. We cannot punish students based on mere speculation without solid evidence."

"What about Pansy's insomnia?" Snape glared at Pansy, now he could roughly guess what was going on.

“You should ask Mrs. Pomfrey,” Professor McGonagall said curtly, her lips pursed.

“Or you could brew her a potion of life-and-death potion?” Sagrais interjected. “Of course, a stun spell would also work.”

Pansy's face turned deathly pale.

Sagles had no liking for people who bullied the weak with numbers but didn't dare to actually fight back.

This reminded him of his former classmates whom he had treated free of charge.