HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

"Healed completely."

The wound on his wrist healed instantly, but a scar remained. Instead of trying to remove it, Sagres regarded it as a warning to himself.

He gently moved his wrist, feeling the pain of the cut skin, but his eyes grew increasingly calm.

He doesn't need a "guardian" from the future, and he refuses to become a "puppet" that can be remotely controlled.

No matter how rugged and dangerous the road ahead may be, he will walk it alone.

Raise your hand and look again at the spacetime rune on the back of your hand that symbolizes infinite possibilities and freedom—the Möbius strip and ouroboros are still slowly rotating, radiating a tranquil light.

This is my own strength.

He was silent.

After dealing with the problem on his wrist, Sagles turned his attention to the desk.

He waved his wand expressionlessly, and the drawer slid open silently.

Professor Samdron, now shrunk, was clearly not idle. He had built a makeshift staircase using the miniature "Standard Spells" and a few giant owl pellets, and was now standing on tiptoe, peering out through the ventilation hole that Sagres had deliberately left.

The sudden light and noise from the open drawer startled him. He turned around abruptly and saw Sagres's cold gaze. His face instantly filled with embarrassment and panic.

"I...I didn't see anything! Really! I was focused on reading the whole time!"

Samdron hurriedly explained, trying to get down from his makeshift "watchtower," but almost tripped and fell.

Sagres ignored his feeble explanations and didn't need to hear how much he had seen.

He raised his wand without the slightest hesitation.

He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

A thin beam of red light precisely entered Samdron's tiny body.

His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the pile of "stepping stones," falling into a deep coma.

Sagres used a levitation charm to take the unconscious miniature professor out of the drawer and place him on a chair nearby.

"Grow bigger quickly!"

The miniature Professor Samdron's body began to stretch rapidly, quickly returning to normal human size.

He sat with his head tilted to the side in the chair, breathing steadily, as if he had simply fallen into a deep sleep.

Then Sagrath raised his wand again, pointing it at Samdron's temple, the tip of the wand gleaming with silver light.

"Forget everything and it's all empty."

The powerful magic, like a finely crafted knife, began to precisely peel away and alter Samdron's memories.

All the fragments related to him, those replaced by him, and those locked in the drawer were carefully searched out and then completely erased, like erasing pencil marks from paper with an eraser.

He then began to use "memory weaving" to construct new memories.

He cleverly incorporated and embellished all the things he had done during this period—clearing the giants of the Forbidden Forest, driving away the treacherous goblins, dealing with the church's witch hunts, and rescuing the young wizard Leah—into Samdron's memory.

He made the professor "believe" that it was all a feat he accomplished through his own wisdom and courage, while his memory was filled with Samdron's characteristic arrogance, and of course, a hint of lingering fear.

Sagres took one last look at the professor whose memories had been altered, and after confirming that there were no oversights, he left the room and Hogwarts without a sound.

The castle remained silent, as if nothing had happened.

Only Professor Samdron, who was asleep with his head tilted to the side in the chair, and the vague memories of "heroes" in his mind, proved that an unknown episode had once taken place here.

Chapter 407 Precarious Situation

Knowing that every small action he took could potentially trigger a massive upheaval in the future, he felt it necessary to restore everything to its "original state" and erase all traces of his existence before leaving.

This is not out of fear, but rather a basic respect for the law of cause and effect, or rather, a rational approach to avoid getting burned.

Sagres also liked his former rebellious self, but according to the information revealed by his future self, especially the warning that "the impact will be settled all at once when he leaves," it was like an invisible shackle that forced him to carefully deal with the traces he left in this era.

He first returned to the Owl Shack at Hogwarts.

This is where he first left his mark; several test marks still remain on the ground and walls.

Sagres waved his wand, completely erasing the marks, and also pried out the coin from the crack in the wall, leaving no trace.

He then used Apparition to enter the Forbidden Forest.

The former giant camp, once bombarded by a meteorite, is now reduced to a charred, scar-like crater and the surrounding fallen trees.

He stood at the edge of the pit and sighed.

It's all his own doing... but there's nothing he can do but reach out with his wand.

"Restored to its original state!"

The earth groaned in pain under the influence of the immense magic.

Immediately afterwards, the surrounding soil and rocks seemed to come alive as they converged and filled the center of the giant pit; fallen trees were lifted up by an invisible force, broken roots re-entered the soil, and charred marks were quickly covered by newly grown moss and lichen.

In just a moment, the original mess disappeared, replaced by a slightly new clearing in the woods that showed no signs of human intervention.

He then went to the fairy stronghold he had visited before.

The stronghold was now empty, but Sagres noticed a patch of messy hoofprints on the ground and small holes in the tents from arrows.

Following these traces, he silently slipped deeper into the forest and arrived at the outskirts of a hidden centaur tribe.

He didn't approach, but instead hid in the shadow of an ancient tree and peered inside.

Near the entrance to the tribe, more than a dozen thick wooden stakes were hammered into the ground, and the sharp wooden spikes at the top of the stakes were pierced with the heads of more than a dozen demons.

Their ferocious expressions were frozen in the terror and pain of their impending death, and their dried blood stained the wooden stakes a dark brown.

Some centaur warriors were silently circling the stake, performing some kind of vengeful ritual.

Sagres silently counted the number of heads on the wooden sticks, confirming that it perfectly matched the number of fairies in the previous stronghold.

It seems that these restless demons have been completely eliminated by the local "natives".

He then did not linger and used Apparition to arrive at the gloomy catacombs near Little Hangleton.

The stone coffin still lay there quietly, but the monster's corpse that should have been inside had long been burned to ashes by him earlier.

But he cannot leave an empty coffin here; that would not be in accordance with "history."

He touched the stone coffin with his wand—

"Copy in pairs!"

He then pointed his wand at the replicated sarcophagus:

"Transform instantly!"

The replicated sarcophagus rapidly transformed in a flash of light, eventually taking on the exact same form as the monster's corpse in the memory, even mimicking the details of the wounds and decay with uncanny accuracy.

He carefully placed the "fake" into the stone coffin and finally closed the lid.

Having done all this, Sagres stood at the entrance to the tomb and looked back at this turbulent era.

That's all he can do. He can't bring back those he's already killed, and he can't bring back those he's already saved.

It may have felt good to act recklessly before, but if my future self were to use that method to set an example, it would undoubtedly serve as a heavy warning.

"When it's time to be cautious, we still need to be cautious," he muttered to himself, his tone tinged with a helpless self-mockery.

After confirming that the main traces he had left in this era had been erased as much as possible, Sagres turned his attention to another matter—the member of the Decay School known as "Lochtis".

He needs to go and see for himself.

Without hesitation, Sagres activated Apparition again, feeling the compression and stretching of space.

After several consecutive jumps, he reached his destination—Brudel.

This is a wizarding village located in the cold north, bordering Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The layout of this village was somewhat similar to Hogsmeade, which he was familiar with, with clusters of wooden and stone buildings and a few wizards scattered along the streets.

But their overall atmospheres are quite different.

Hogsmeade was filled with a relaxed liveliness, while the air seemed to be covered with an invisible layer of frost.

Most of the wizards coming and going were in a hurry, their faces showing vigilance and solemnity. They spoke in hushed tones, their eyes frequently glancing towards the direction outside the village, shrouded in dense pine forests and snow.

As far as he knew, the village had disappeared from maps in later generations, leaving only a forgotten ruin.

Now that he is here in person, he can better feel the oppressive atmosphere before the storm.

Sagres randomly chose a hotel that looked reasonably sturdy and went inside.

The inn was dimly lit, the fire in the fireplace was not burning brightly, and the few guests sat silently in the corner, the air filled with the smell of cheap cigarettes and alcohol.

He checked in, and during a brief exchange with the hotel owner about room rates and hot water supply, his eyes met the owner's for a fleeting moment.

A silent, stealthy thought-capturing technique instantly penetrated the innkeeper's anxious and panicked consciousness.

He quickly pieced together the fragmented information, like shattered pieces of glass:

Durmstrang has had an accident.

A student was arrested for assaulting church clergy. Under brutal interrogation, he couldn't keep the secret and revealed the approximate location of the school.

Soon, the church assembled a massive force—not only the heavily armed Knights of the Fire and the fanatical Holy Hunt, but also a large number of misled or lured local farmers, forming a terrifying witch-hunting team.

This witch-hunting team, like a white plague, surrounded the area from all sides.

The chaos here also attracted another group of vultures—all sorts of dark wizards.

They hid in the village and the surrounding forest, their eyes greedily fixed on students who might escape from the school's shelter.

Most of them use the guise of "taking on apprentices" but in reality they are searching for servants they can use at will, or even "materials" for certain dark rituals.

Under pressure, Durmstrang has already paid a bloody price – two professors on patrol have met with misfortune, believed to have been ambushed and killed by dark wizards.

In response, Durmstrang has fully activated its magical barrier, enveloping the entire campus in an invisible enclosure and sealing it off.

Sagres withdrew his gaze, understanding dawning on him.

He paid the room fee, took the rough wooden key, and walked towards the narrow and cold guest room.