HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

He looked at the crucible of medicine as if it were a huge test he had to swallow. Finally, he nodded resignedly, acknowledging Sagres's judgment.

"I guessed so."

Every time he drank this medicine, it was like torture, and Snape was clearly happy to add extra "ingredients" to it.

"Hopefully he didn't spit in it."

As Lupin spoke, he picked up a clean cup from the table and poured the terrifying-smelling liquid into it.

“Are you really going to drink it, Professor?” Harry swallowed hard. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Looking at Harry's sincere and anxious face, Lupin felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

“Harry, I appreciate your concern, really. But I have to take this medicine.”

His tone was gentle yet firm. "This is Headmaster Dumbledore's arrangement, and it will certainly help me. Professor Snape's expertise in potions is undeniable, even by those he dislikes the most."

He glanced at the still-smoking liquid, took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing himself.

"Alright, let's leave this topic at that. Didn't you come here to learn the Patronus Charm? Let's focus on that, okay?"

As he spoke, he picked up the cup and drank it all in one gulp.

Chapter 208 Happy Halloween

The little incident in the office about the wolfsbane medicine was quickly forgotten.

As the students returned from Hogsmeade laden with their belongings, Hogwarts Castle was completely ignited by the annual Halloween festivities.

The students discovered that the auditorium ceiling was no longer the usual starry sky, but rather a thick layer of dark, blood-red clouds.

Every now and then, several enormous, skeletal claws made of magic would peek out from the clouds, nimbly clawing and scratching in the air, eliciting screams and laughter from the students dining below.

The bolder students deliberately ran around under the claws, only to be gently "scooped up" a few inches by the huge bony toes and then put down, eliciting gasps and laughter.

Four long tables were laden with Halloween delicacies: bubbling pumpkin juice served in skull-shaped goblets, golden-brown, juicy chicken wings adorned with bat-shaped flags, and even mashed potatoes shaped like grave mounds topped with "tombstone" cookies.

The most eye-catching feature was a lifelike jack-o'-lantern, as large as Hagrid's hut, carved in the center of the hall. Its mouth was stretched into a huge, empty smile, shimmering with orange-red light.

The older students had clearly figured out how to play the new game.

Several Slytherins grinned wickedly, urging a trembling first-year Hufflepuff to approach the giant pumpkin lantern.

"Don't be afraid, there's something good inside!" shouted an older student. "Shout 'Trick or treat' into its mouth!"

The new student approached hesitantly, half-believing, half-doubting, and had just shouted into the dark mouth, "If you don't give me candy, then..."

With a loud "whoosh," the pumpkin lantern's mouth suddenly opened, and a huge suction force instantly swallowed the little Hufflepuff whole!

"Wow—!" The freshmen screamed in terror, and even some of the older students were startled.

But just a few seconds later, the jack-o'-lantern's gaping mouth suddenly opened, and with a "poof," the little wizard was spat out unharmed, collapsing to the ground, clutching a large bunch of colorful Honeydukes candies, still somewhat dazed.

After a brief silence, the auditorium erupted in deafening laughter and cheers.

The freshmen's eyes lit up, and they rushed towards the giant pumpkin lantern.

Amidst this chaotic and joyful scene, several Dementors with Gilderoy Lockhart's signature toothy grins (or rather, Lockhart Dementors) were leisurely drifting between the long tables and the crowd.

They have no physical form, but their wide, radiant smiles, stretching to their ears, appear particularly eerie under the spooky lights of Halloween.

"Hello, would you like an autograph?"

It conjured up a phantom book and a phantom quill pen from who-knows-where.

A group of Ravenclaw students were so startled they nearly threw their chicken legs away, recoiled, and shook their heads frantically: "No! No need! Thank you."

"Oh, don't be shy!"

Lockhart's Dementor relentlessly pursued him, his radiant smile almost gleaming eerily in the dim light.

"I guarantee, the magic of my autograph will make you forget all your troubles! Look at my charming smile, isn't it much cuter than those gloomy real guys?"

It even tried to lean against the door frame and strike a "charming" pose.

"Please! Get away!" The student was almost crying, grabbing his backpack and using it to block his way.

"Merlin's beard, that thing is even scarier than the real thing!" Ron exclaimed, clutching his chest as he watched from afar.

"Are you saying it's scarier than a real Dementor, or scarier than a real Lockhart?" Harry asked with a laugh.

“It’s even more terrifying than those two.” Ron picked up a piece of tombstone cake and put it in his mouth. “Thank goodness those bats didn’t have Snape’s face on them, really, or I might have broken down.”

“Ron!” Hermione warned Ron in a low voice, “He’s watching here!”

Harry and Ron looked up and saw Snape staring at the three of them with a disdainful look, mainly at Harry.

The three of them quickly lowered their heads and kept stuffing food into their mouths.

Sagres sat on the side of the teachers' section, holding a deep red drink in his hand, his gaze calmly sweeping over the noisy auditorium below.

Seeing the students' love-hate relationship with the giant pumpkin lantern, the commotion caused by the Blood Cloud Bone Claw, and especially when his "Lockhart Dementor" successfully elicited a chorus of terrified screams and complaints, he couldn't help but smile.

Lockhart will really be going to keep Dementors company in a couple of days. The Ministry of Magic has already started investigating, but it hasn't been made public yet.

Professors Flitwick and Lupin were discussing the magic used in the decorations, occasionally asking him a question. He responded absentmindedly, his attention mostly absorbed in his own thoughts.

The dinner party drew to a close amidst continuous screams, laughter, candy rain, and the "harassment" of Lockhart's Dementors.

Dumbledore stood up, tapped his wand on his wine glass, producing a clear, melodious tinkling sound, and the noise in the Great Hall gradually subsided.

What a vibrant night!

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with delight. "Thank you to the ghosts and all the professors... especially Professor Greengrass for his ingenious decorations, which have added unforgettable memories to our Halloween."

He glanced meaningfully at Lockhart, the Dementor who was still trying to demonstrate his "signature charm" to a Gryffindor student in the corner, who was desperately hiding his face with a pumpkin pie plate.

“Well then, children,” Dumbledore smiled, “no sweet candy or terrifying joke can stop the call of sleep. Prefects, lead your students back to the common rooms. Have… well, a good dream? Good night!”

The prefects stood up to maintain order.

The students stood up, their faces flushed with excitement, still wanting more, and discussed the fun things that had happened that evening.

Several people argued about who got the highest bone claw, who got the most candy from the jack-o'-lantern, and who was chased the worst by Lockhart's Dementors.

Sagles returned to his office, stood by the window, and looked up at the gloomy sky outside the castle.

Dementors, like ghosts, silently roam the air and ground surrounding Hogwarts, bringing a chilling sense of despair.

His gaze flickered for a moment as he watched the weary owls bravely flit between the low-hanging leaden clouds and the cold shadows of the Dementors.

Some of their feathers were dampened by the cold mist, and some of their flight paths were briefly deflected by the approach of the Dementors, but none of them were truly blocked or attacked.

They still accurately delivered letters, packages, and newspapers to the owl huts in each tower, and a few were even more daring, swooping down directly through the Dementors' sparse barricades to drop items onto the windows of the student dormitories.

Sagres's gaze followed a barn owl flapping its wings, when suddenly, a flash of lightning struck his mind.

“Dementors are most sensitive to emotions, especially human happy memories, and feeding on souls is their instinct. But animals... their emotional structures are more primitive, just like these owls that can move freely, which proves that the main target of Dementors is humans with complex emotions and clear souls.”

This thought, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, stirred up ripples.

He thought of Azkaban, the wizarding prison guarded by Dementors.

How did Sirius Black, a prisoner believed to have lost his wand and become weak, disappear silently right under the noses of countless Dementors?

"Conventional illusion spells, Polyjuice Potion... are child's play compared to the Dementors' ability to sense souls. They can 'see through' any disguise and directly lock onto the soul's presence. Unless..."

A bold conjecture emerged in his mind, like a candle suddenly lit in the darkness.

"Unless, he changes not just his physical appearance, but his most fundamental life form."

Sagres narrowed his eyes. "Magic that can change the 'scent' of a soul, even simulating... a non-human state."

An answer clearly appeared in his mind—human shapeshifting—Animagus!

Chapter 209 The Torn Portrait

Animagus is an extremely profound, dangerous, and strictly controlled branch of magic, far beyond the scope of ordinary transfiguration.

It is a self-powered magic that transcends the soul and body, not only transforming a person into a specific animal but also altering the essence of the user's soul.

Once the essence of a human wizard is distorted and reshaped, it will become blurred and unfamiliar in the perception of Dementors, and may even be mistaken for an ordinary, inferior animal.

Sagres's fingers unconsciously traced the surface of his wand. This was merely a guess, a hypothesis based on limited observation, lacking any empirical support.

After all, Azkaban has never had a successful prison break, and as far as he knows, there are currently only seven registered Animagus:

Minerva McGonagall, tabby cat, registered in 1956, is a professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts.

Donahan Tumler, a hare, registered in 1929, is an employee of the Department of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic.

Tiberius Ogden, Badger, registered in 1914, was a Wizengamo veteran.

Carlotta Pinkstone, the Magpie, registered in 1894, was the first journalist to report on Quidditch using the Animagus identity.

Darko Cresswell, the Raven, registered in 1822, was the head of the Fairy Liaison Office (later dismissed for accepting bribes).

Cecilia Sampaio, a golden monkey, registered around 1800, was a representative of the Portuguese Ministry of Magic.

An anonymous wizard, whose identity is unknown, went into seclusion after registering in 1901; his file is encrypted.

Moreover, Tiberius Ogden (Badger) on this list died of natural causes in 1943;

Darko Cresswell (the Raven) died of dracunculiasis in Azkaban.

This indicates that Azkaban had protective measures in place for known Animagus prisoners, but only if they were aware of this beforehand.

Sirius Black is very likely an illegal Animagus.

Sagres was certain that, compared to the few registered individuals who were like "living rare specimens" in the magical world, the unregistered ones hidden in the shadows were the true majority.

However, another more crucial question arises: since Animagus is a form of self-magic that can be cast without a wand, then... why did Sirius endure thirteen years in Azkaban, only to choose to escape after seeing a newspaper?

Sagles took out the newspaper again, his deep gaze sweeping over the faces of the Weasleys.

Finally, his gaze fell on the mouse on Ron's shoulder.

“So… you’re an Animagus too?” Sagrais narrowed his eyes.

He felt he needed to verify some of his ideas, so he immediately got up and left the office.