HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Sagres walked back to the corner where the professors were gathered, his surface still calm and composed, but his thoughts were churning inside.

A lifespan of twelve years?

This far exceeds the limits of ordinary mice!

Missing a toe?

This is another extremely crucial feature!

Fudge's terrified voice seemed to echo in his ears: "...The brave Peter Pettigrew! Blown to pieces in front of everyone by that ruthless Black! Only one of his fingers was found at the scene!"

The scattered fragments gradually came together, and it seemed that the mouse named "Banban" was indeed not an ordinary pet, but an Animagus.

Peter Pettigrew!

The man who was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin First Class and mourned as a hero for twelve years hid in the Weasley house for twelve years, disguised as an ordinary mouse.

Why did he do this?

What grudge did Blake hold against him that led Blake to decisively escape from prison after seeing that he was still alive?

Sagres didn't know what had happened between them, but capturing either of them should reveal the truth.

"We need to find Lupin and ask him about Black's Animagus form."

Having made his decision, he quickly found Lupin in the corridor outside the auditorium.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was nervously and repeatedly checking every window and door lock, his movements revealing a persistent anxiety.

He was pale, with heavy shadows under his eyes, clearly tormented by Blake's intrusion and the ensuing events.

"Professor Lu Ping, would it be convenient for us to talk?"

Sagles's voice interrupted Lupin's inspection, and he gestured for Lupin to follow him to a secluded corner.

Lupin turned around, his eyes tired but with a hint of wariness: "Is there something you need, Professor Greengrass?"

His voice was a little hoarse, and his complexion wasn't very good.

Without any pleasantries, Sagres cut to the chase: "Regarding Black, I'd like to know what his Animagus form is?"

At the same time, invisible threads of mind-controlling magic had quietly spread, silently enveloping Lupin.

Lupin was taken aback by the question, then his face drained of color, leaving only incredulous shock: "How did you know?"

He blurted it out instinctively, but his words undoubtedly confirmed Sagles's guess.

“Oh,” Sagres didn’t answer his question, but nodded knowingly, “So it was a big black dog.”

He immediately thought of the big black dog in Diagon Alley. At the time, he thought it was the pet of some dark wizard, but now he realized that it must have been Black in his Animagus form.

And that mouse... Scabbers... Peter Pettigrew.

He even personally helped Ron get it out of the niche.

twice!

He let key figures slip away right under his nose both times!

A cold and cruel smile appeared on Sagres's lips.

well.

Since you all like to hide under the skin of animals, concealing your true nature and fooling others... then I'm going to drag you out and personally peel off your skin, leaving you nowhere to hide.

Lupin finally realized that Sagres hadn't asked him a question, but had instead used Legilimency to extract the answer directly from his shock.

He frowned, took a half step back, and his face flushed with anger and defensiveness: "Professor Greengrass, how could you do this..."

"I have absolutely valid reasons for doing this!"

Sagles interrupted Lupin, looking calmly at the young, gray-haired professor, and said, word by word, "Because that's the key to Black's escape from Azkaban. It's also the secret to his ability to infiltrate Hogwarts like a ghost."

He looked at Lupin, his gaze full of scrutiny. "And you, Remus Lupin, as a professor at Hogwarts, knowingly concealed this fatal information. I really want to know who is standing before me—a werewolf? A professor? Or Black's friend?"

Lupin opened his mouth, but in the end, he couldn't utter a single word.

Sagreston paused, looking at Lupin's suddenly pale face, his tone icy, "If Black succeeds this time and kills someone in Hogwarts Castle... I wonder if you will still be able to remain silent like this, numbing yourself with your pathetic guilt."

After saying that, Sagles turned to leave.

“Wait a minute,” Lupin suddenly said.

Sagres stopped, slowly turned around, and looked at him expressionlessly.

Lupin seemed to have all his strength drained away. He leaned against the cold stone wall, his voice hoarse: "It's a secret," he said.

"Sirius, James, and Peter, all three of them are unregistered Animagus."

He looked up at Sagrais and said bitterly, "And as you already know, I am a werewolf."

Sagles did not answer; he merely raised an eyebrow, signaling Lupin to continue.

“We were so foolish back then…” Lupin shook his head, “always indulging in our own cleverness. Sometimes I feel guilty… I suffer for betraying Headmaster Dumbledore’s trust.”

His voice was low and deep. "After all, back then, no school was willing to accept me. He gave me the opportunity to study at Hogwarts. But he didn't know that my werewolf identity caused my friends to become illegal Animagus! He also didn't know that when my friends broke the school rules, I, as the prefect, not only didn't stop them, but became their accomplice!"

Lupin was clearly lost in memories, "But whenever we sat together, excitedly planning our next adventure, that pitiful sense of guilt was thrown to the back of my mind... And to this day, I haven't changed..."

His voice grew softer and softer, filled with helplessness.

Sagres looked at him, his tone calm: “There are two kinds of courage. One is to be fearless in the face of enemies, and the other is to stick to principles in the face of friends. And what people often lack most... is the second kind of courage.”

He looked at Lupin's dejected face and slowly said, "I can understand what you did in the past, because that friendship was very precious to you."

Lupin's body trembled, as if he had been struck hard by those words.

The last trace of color drained from his face, leaving only utter despair and self-loathing.

“You’re right. This past year, I’ve struggled countless times with the question of whether or not to confess Sirius’s Animagus identity to Dumbledore. But I didn’t… not even once. Because I was cowardly! Because confessing would mean admitting that I betrayed his trust back in my student days, admitting that I led them to do those foolish things with me… and Dumbledore’s trust means everything to me!”

He sighed. "When I was a child, he gave me shelter; when I grew up, rejected by the world and unable to find work, he gave me a job. So I told myself that Sirius must have used some kind of dark magic he learned from Voldemort to sneak into the castle...it had nothing to do with the Animagus. Therefore, Snape's views on me were, in a sense, correct!"

"I am his accomplice!"

That last sentence drained all his strength. Although he was still standing there, he was more like a shaky shell.

Sagrass paused for a moment before calmly speaking, "Fortunately, there were no casualties this time. As long as we catch him, it won't be too late."

He didn't tell Lupin that Peter Pettigrew was still alive; it wasn't the right time yet.

And nobody knows whether the rat has already been killed and eaten by Blake.

Chapter 213 Substitute Teacher "Snape"

The castle awoke the next day under high alert.

The Gryffindor students were finally able to return to the tower, but instead of the Fat Lady, they were greeted by a new keeper—Sir Cadogan—who was full of energy and eager for challenges.

The portrait of this short, stout knight, riding his equally spirited pony, leaps and bounds within the frame, brandishing his short sword, and shouts excitedly at the sight of students:

"Halt! Give me the password! Or you'll taste my sword!"

"Coward! Do you dare to fight me to the death?!"

"Forward! For honor!"

What frustrated the students even more was that Sir Cadogan seemed to regard changing the password as the most important military operation of the day.

Within a single day, the command changed from "Charge with Valor" to "Dragon's Breath and Blazing Flames," then from "Invincible" to "Neighing of Warhorses," and by afternoon tea time, the command had become "Victory and Glory"...

Not only were they completely unpredictable, but they were also incredibly frequent.

"He changed again!"

Ron groaned as he climbed the stairs, “It was ‘Dragon’s Breath’ this morning, and just now I heard him yell ‘Dauntless Challenge’ at Neville. And it’s only been two hours!”

"Just as annoying as Snape."

Harry rubbed his temples; they had already been forced to run up and down several times.

"I believe he has violated the basic professional ethics of portrait protection!"

Hermione was also furious, her cheeks flushed red. She tried to find a theoretical basis in "Hogwarts: A History of the School" to accuse the mad knight.

"This is a complete abuse of power and creating unnecessary trouble."

Sir Cadogan didn't care at all; on the contrary, he thought the students running around was excellent training.

His excited voice echoed at the tower entrance, adding a irritating "vitality" to the still-shaken castle.

The students were full of complaints about the new guard, and even the fat lady who used to complain seemed much more lovable in comparison.

Blake broke into the old school and then disappeared without a trace, seemingly without causing any other serious consequences except for the disappearance of a rat.

But an invisible tension, like a low-pressure system, still lingered over Hogwarts.

Halloween is over, and the Quidditch match is about to begin. Harry has to put aside everything else to prepare for the first match of the new school year.

He certainly hadn't forgotten his identity as the Gryffindor Seeker; however, just as he was preparing to throw himself into intense pre-competition training, Professor McGonagall made an unusual appearance at his door.

Her brows were furrowed and her expression was unusually serious. When Harry first saw her, his heart sank; he thought someone had died at the school.

“Potter,” Professor McGonagall said bluntly, “I don’t think you’re fit to continue attending Quidditch practice every afternoon.”

"Why?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Our first match is on Saturday."

“The reason is obvious to me,” Professor McGonagall said, pursing her lips. “To tell you the truth, Potter, many of us, including Professor Dumbledore, consider you Sirius Black’s primary target. Without a professor watching over you on the Quidditch pitch, you are in a dangerous situation.”

“But Professor, I have to train!” Harry argued urgently, knowing what would touch Professor McGonagall’s heart. “Their opponents are Slytherin, we have to win!”

Sure enough, those words had an immediate effect, and Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor Headmaster and a Quidditch fanatic, was instantly on the defensive.

“Hmm… alright,” she conceded. “For God’s sake, I really hope to see us finally bring the Quidditch Cup back…”

She then shifted the subject, proposing a compromise: "However, the training must be conducted under the full supervision of a professor. What do you think?"

“Of course, that would be perfect.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief and immediately nodded in agreement.

On the other side, Sagles also remained vigilant.

He focused his attention on the forgotten corners of the castle, the abandoned classrooms, and the dark corridors.

He felt that the "big black dog" and the "rat" couldn't possibly disappear forever; they would inevitably slip up eventually.