HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

But what he feared even more was that the little boy was born as expected.

If that child were still born, growing up and living along the predetermined path, experiencing everything he was meant to experience...

So what is he now, this wizard who wields powerful magic and teeters on the brink of life and death?

An extra shadow?

A copied consciousness?

An echo that has unexpectedly fallen off the timeline?

Are his memories, his emotions, everything about him merely stolen and imitated from another "self"?

This fear of the very nature of existence far surpasses any black magic or formidable enemy.

Therefore, when the time converter accidentally sent him back to this era, he was not in a hurry to go back.

Even subconsciously, he felt that staying at this "wrong" point in time was not necessarily a bad thing.

For him, it seems that there is no essential difference no matter where he is.

If you calculate carefully, more than twenty years have passed since he traveled through time. His age in both worlds has quietly become equal.

Many memories from before the time travel are slowly fading and becoming blurry.

Whenever he wakes up in the middle of the night, he can't even distinguish which part of his life is real, so he tries not to sleep anymore.

This is already the case in just twenty years. What about thirty or forty years from now?

When he is old and frail, will he feel that everything before his time travel was nothing but a fleeting dream...?

His emotions surged like a tide, but his hands never stopped moving.

A surge of magic flowed from his fingertips, transforming into thousands of shimmering silver threads that rapidly intertwined in the air, outlining a complex and dazzling rune.

The runes slowly rotated, attempting to tear apart the barrier of space, but then trembled violently just as they were about to take shape, flickering uncertainly, as if they were about to be completely annihilated at any moment.

Can he succeed?

Sagres didn't know.

He just felt that he shouldn't run away anymore.

This is not only about returning home, but also about giving oneself an answer—the ultimate answer about who he is, where he came from, and where he will go.

If he succeeds, he will go back.

Returning to that distant East, to that small town whose memory has become somewhat blurred.

Take a look at your former self.

Sagres suppressed all his turbulent thoughts and closed his eyes tightly.

A magical glow began to swirl around him like flowing water.

Time has lost its scale, and space has blurred its boundaries.

He felt his consciousness being stretched and extended, as if floating in an endless silver galaxy.

Countless fragments of time and space, threads of fate, flowed, collided, vanished, and were reborn around him.

He was like a sailor sailing in a storm, his only compass being that elusive will and his persistent pursuit of the answer.

After an unknown amount of time, the dazzling magical light began to contract and condense along a fixed trajectory.

The raging torrent of energy gradually became docile, as if being combed and woven by an invisible hand.

A strong sense of disorientation washed over him, and Sagres felt his consciousness being abruptly "pulled back" to his body.

He opened his eyes, still groggy.

The study was still the same study, and the firelight in the fireplace still flickered.

His gaze unconsciously fell on the back of his left hand.

There, a mark is radiating a soft glow from within.

That was a rather exquisite symbol.

The main body of the symbol is a Möbius strip that flows with silver light. It is composed of a bundle of light without positive or negative, without beginning or end, symbolizing infinity and cycles.

A snake with its head and tail intertwined embraces the Möbius strip, its scales clearly visible and lifelike.

If you stare at it for a long time, you can even see it slowly devouring its own body.

This symbol is a unique spacetime coordinate, and also a tangible embodiment of a stable and powerful spacetime travel magic.

It possesses a remarkably stable magical structure, deeply etched into his flesh and soul like a brand, becoming one with his own magic.

So he succeeded.

And so another almost miraculous magic was born.

Sagres gazed silently at the rune, feeling no expected joy, but rather an almost ethereal tranquility and a sense of relief that everything had settled.

This is not just a tool to bring him back, but also a key to answering questions.

He gently stroked the cool rune mark on the back of his hand, and the light faded, gradually sinking into his skin.

Why not give it a try?

A familiar voice came from the chair in front of the desk, with a hint of amusement in it, "Maybe you won't have the chance to use it again in a little while."

Sagres felt a chill run down his spine instantly; the unprecedented warning was like being doused with ice water!

The wand slid into his palm instinctively, its tip flashing with a sharp light, pointing directly at the source of the sound!

Chapter 402 Us

Sagres had just turned around, his wand not even fully raised—

"Stay still!"

That familiar voice spoke again.

Sagres froze in place, like an insect thrown into amber.

Not only was his body unable to move, but he also felt that his thoughts, magic, and even his perception of time were forcibly frozen at this moment, leaving only his consciousness struggling futilely in endless stiffness.

He considered himself to be at the pinnacle of the magical world, with few rivals, but now, facing the person sitting in his chair, he felt as weak as a newborn infant.

Sagres looked at the man's ambiguous smile on the armchair, and a chill ran down his spine and straight to the top of his head, almost freezing his already icy blood.

That face... it was his own!

It's not a disguise, nor a compound decoction; it's a resonance and affirmation originating from the soul.

Sitting there was another "Sagres," with a familiar depth in his eyes, but with an added touch of playfulness that he couldn't understand.

Sagres, who was sitting, clicked his tongue slightly, seemingly dissatisfied with the stiff posture of the "self" in front of him.

He casually snapped his fingers.

"Snapped."

The solidified state was instantly resolved.

Sagres took a deep breath, regaining control of his body, but he did not make any rash moves, only staring intently at his opponent.

At the same time, he felt a slight twitch in his facial muscles, and the disguise of "Samdron" that he had maintained for so long receded like the tide, and he instantly regained his original appearance.

"I still look better in my own appearance."

Sagres, who was sitting, shifted to a more comfortable position, casually leaning back in his chair, and continued to examine his "freshly made" self with great interest, as if admiring an interesting work of art.

Sagras's mind raced, instinctively wanting to activate Legilimency to obtain a sliver of information—

"You want to use Legilimency on me?"

The future Sagrais laughed, a hint of mockery in his smile. "Nice idea, but I advise you not to do it..."

Before he finished speaking, Sagres felt a sudden lightness in his hand, and the immortal flower wood wand flew out of his hand without warning, landing lightly in the hand of another "self".

The other person toyed with the wand as if it were an ordinary toy, then he raised his eyes and his gaze fell back on Sagres, whose face was extremely pale.

"We need to talk."

He suppressed some of his smile, but his casual demeanor remained unchanged. "About you, or rather, about me."

His gaze was like a sharp knife, dissecting inch by inch the solemn-faced "Sagres" standing before him.

"I came here to verify an answer. A question that has troubled me... or rather, has troubled 'us' for a long time."

As he stood there, Sagres' pupils contracted slightly. Almost instantly, a cold thought darted into his mind like a venomous snake!

"Ah, it seems you guessed it."

The future Sagrais said calmly, "That's right, I'm going to try, try to see if I can... kill you."

A long silence followed.

"Why?" Sagres's voice was a little hoarse.

“Why? There are many reasons,” the future Sagres said. “But my main question is whether killing my past self will actually affect my future self.”

Sagres thought to himself, "Just as I thought."

He frantically searched for a solution in his mind, but then his heart sank: based on his previous observations through Lochtis's eyes, his actions in this timeline did not seem to affect the "future" he knew.

That means that if the other party kills him here, they may not face any risk.

The future Sagres seemed to have read his thoughts; he smiled and shook his head, a hint of pity in his eyes.

"You're still too young."

He said lazily, "You think everything you do in this timeline won't affect the future? You're wrong, very wrong."

His tone turned slightly serious: "The influence exists, but it doesn't take effect immediately. It accumulates like a lurking undercurrent until you, this 'abnormal variable,' completely leave this timeline. Only then will all the changes, like a flood bursting its banks, reshape the timeline after your departure all at once. In other words, before you step out of this era, everything you do has an 'undetermined' superposition of consequences. And once you leave..."

He didn't say anything more, but stared straight into Sagrais's eyes, and then chuckled.

Upon hearing this, Sagres, who was standing, relaxed his tense nerves for a moment.

If that's the case, then the other party can't kill you so easily!