HP: Dangerous Professor from Azkaban

Sagres returned to the Hogwarts Library to continue his research on the manuscript. This time, no one disturbed him, and he unknowingly remained in the Restricted Section until the afternoon of the following day.

Only when he finally felt some fatigue did he draw his wand and cast two consecutive spells on himself—Waking Requiem and Sleep Evaporation.

Over the years, these two spells had gained him a great deal of time; they were his "secret weapons" for studying Magic day and night.

Waking Requiem functioned like a brief "spiritual rest"; it could replace physical sleep, allowing the caster's mind and body to enter a restful state similar to sleep without needing to close their eyes or stop their activity.

Sleep Evaporation, on the other hand, dispelled the need for sleep entirely. It temporarily suppressed physical fatigue and improved magical and physical recovery efficiency, enabling the caster to stay awake and operate at high performance.

He had discovered these two spells in the Greengrass Family's library. They were originally designed to create an "unrelenting army of slaves." However, with the decline of the Greengrass Family, these spells had long since been forgotten.

At first, Sagres thought they were of little use, but after trying them by chance, he was pleasantly surprised to find how remarkably effective they were in refreshing himself.

However, excessive use of these spells could lead to mania and emotional breakdown. But if one could manage to sleep once every ten days, the side effects were nearly negligible.

Especially after he created the Mechanical Mind, the side effects of these two spells became even less of an issue for him.

Leaving the Hogwarts Library, Sagres was on his way to the Great Hall to get something to eat when Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, found him.

"Please come to the Headmaster's office. Password: Freezing Wizbees."

That was what the note Fawkes carried read.

Sagres pursed his lips, grabbed a few pies from a House-elf first, and then made his way to the Headmaster's office on the 7th floor while eating.

The stone gargoyle slowly rotated open, and Sagres's black robe brushed past the flickering candlelight on the spiral staircase. Professor Dumbledore sat beside the phoenix perch, his fingers gently tracing the flowing crimson patterns of the Philosopher's Stone.

"Good afternoon, Sagres..." The Headmaster's half-moon spectacles gleamed with amusement. "Do you think I should add a few more Medals of Contribution to Hogwarts?"

Sagres picked up a drink from the tea tray, examined it carefully, then tapped the rim of the cup to replace the mead with coffee.

"For Potter and the other two?" he asked casually while taking a sip. "It seems you don't blame them for acting on their own."

"Sagres, though I am an old man, I was once young," Professor Dumbledore said with a smile. "The three of them were indeed a bit reckless, but their intentions were good, and they show excellent potential."

"As you wish. You are the Headmaster, but.." Sagres replied indifferently. "Did you summon me just for that?"

The Philosopher's Stone in Professor Dumbledore's hand suddenly floated, casting a radiant light between the two of them. "Of course not, there's something else..."

The Headmaster looked at the glowing Philosopher's Stone and said wistfully, "A miracle of six hundred years of life will eventually return to dust."

He sighed. "After discussion, Nicolas Flamel and I have agreed that destroying the Philosopher's Stone is the best course of action."

"Destroy it?" Sagres's expression finally turned serious. "Nicolas Flamel agreed as well?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded.

"Then won't he and his wife die?"

"Everyone dies, Sagres..." Professor Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. "For young lives like yours, death may seem strange and terrifying. But Nicolas and Perenelle have long come to terms with it—death is merely a peaceful slumber after a long journey. And for the truly wise, it is a new and magnificent adventure."

"But..."

"But it's not what you imagined, is it?" The Headmaster's smile deepened in his eyes. "You thought no one could resist the temptation of immortality, especially after having tasted it."

Sagres said nothing, because that was indeed what he had believed.

"You are very clever, Sagres..." the Headmaster said with emotion, "Among all the young people I have met, none are smarter than you."

The old man was completely serious—there was not a trace of jest in his voice.

"But at the same time, you are too proud... Deep down, you look down on every one of us. Even though your condescending attitude is well concealed, I can still see it."

"I think you've misunderstood. I didn't—"

Professor Dumbledore raised a hand, stopping Sagres, and spoke with seriousness and gravity, "Perhaps even you haven't realized it, but I can see it—not through Magic, but through something beyond Magic that I've gained over the past hundred years. Muggles call it 'life experience.'"

Sagres suddenly fell silent, unable to utter a single word.

For a moment, he even wondered if the Headmaster had used Legilimency on him again, but reason told him—he hadn't. After all, since his third year, no one had been able to break through his Occlumency without his awareness.

But just as Professor Dumbledore had said, he himself had never realized this problem before. In these past twenty years, he believed he had been humble enough, eager to learn, and polite...

But in reality?

In reality, he had always carried the mindset of a transmigrator, looking down from above. He had always been secretly smug, thinking he had a cheat.

And everyone in this world, in his eyes, was just a "native."

Although he had never shown it outwardly, it was a fact—deeply rooted in his heart.

The Headmaster looked at the silent Sagres and spoke gently, "I don't know what you've experienced, Sagres… Perhaps you've seen wonders no one else has seen, perhaps you've mastered Magic that no one else understands… But I must tell you, these are not reasons for arrogance. If you continue to look down on others, you will eventually stumble because of it…"

The Headmaster said earnestly, "Just as you believed no one could resist the temptation of the Philosopher's Stone. But in fact, Nicolas and his wife were long prepared. In thought, they are no less than you; in courage, they surpass you."

"I understand…" Sagres nodded. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

"Ha~ That's heartfelt gratitude—I can tell." The Headmaster laughed heartily, looking quite pleased.

"But there's one thing, Headmaster… I don't think destroying the Philosopher's Stone is a good choice."

The Headmaster was a little surprised to hear this. "Oh? Why? Are you also starting to take an interest in immortality?"

Sagres shook his head. "That is not my path. I just think that as the pinnacle of alchemy, it would be a great pity to destroy the Philosopher's Stone. After all, it's the only Philosopher's Stone in the magical world, and perhaps it could guide future generations in certain areas."

"But every fragment of it could give rise to a new Tom Riddle," Professor Dumbledore sighed. "And you understand how it corrupts the heart—after all, it's the Elixir of Life. What a tempting phrase…"

"Then put it somewhere safer than Gringotts, and entrust the secret to a mind that no Legilimency master could ever penetrate."

"You mean…"

"I mean, carry it with you," Sagres said seriously. "Just keep it in your pocket. Trust me, it won't take up much space at all, and no one in this world will ever covet it again."

The old Professor fell silent for a moment, then gently placed the scarlet Philosopher's Stone on the table.

"But I think it's a hassle. After all, I'm already very old…" Professor Dumbledore sighed, a trace of helplessness in his tone. "How many more years do you think I can keep it?"

"Just a suggestion," Sagres replied, calmly avoiding the old man's question. "I won't stop you. I just sincerely believe that destroying it would be a loss to the magical world."

Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. It was indeed an angle he hadn't considered before. "Nicolas Flamel and I will seriously consider your suggestion."

Sagres nodded and was just about to stand and leave when a thought suddenly flashed through his mind, making him stop. "I forgot to ask—who is the Tom Riddle you mentioned earlier?"

"Ah, you just met him last night..." This time, Professor Dumbledore wore an inscrutable smile and did not answer directly.

"You mean… Lord Voldemort?" A strong surge of curiosity surged in Sagres's chest.

The Headmaster smiled and nodded.

"You know a lot about him?" Sagres sat down again, filled with questions about Lord Voldemort's current condition.

The old man behind the desk fell into brief contemplation before slowly replying, "I can't say I know much… although I've been trying to understand him."

"Then his condition…"

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't know either. I don't understand how he can still be alive… Of course, perhaps that can no longer be called 'alive.'"

The old man behind the desk fell into reminiscence, his deep blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles seeming to pierce time, gazing into the past.

"Tom… Lord Voldemort… he yearned for immortality beyond all measure, and he paid a great price for it," Professor Dumbledore said in a low, distant voice, as though recounting something from a bygone era. "But because of that, he has gone further down the road of immortality than anyone else."

Sagres's mind was in turmoil. He had always believed that true immortality didn't exist in this world—at least, not according to the history he knew.

Otherwise, why had he never heard of anyone truly achieving the legendary feat of eternal life?

Nicolas Flamel?

Six hundred years of life, though long, was far from true immortality.

Moreover, that life was sustained by a potion made from the Philosopher's Stone, not by any powerful magic.

Sagres had met Nicolas Flamel in person—he was an old man in the twilight of his life. The Elixir of Life had delayed his death but had not stopped his body from aging.

It had only granted him a state of not dying.

"By the way…" Sagres suddenly said, a hint of solemnity in his tone. "Can I have a small bottle of the Elixir of Life? Just a small bottle."

He had no intention of consuming it himself; he had already made it clear that such a path was not one he would pursue.

"That's something only Nicolas Flamel has now…" Professor Dumbledore's gaze sharpened slightly as he focused on Sagres. "Of course, I can ask him for you, but first you must tell me your purpose."

A scrutinizing light flashed behind the Headmaster's spectacles.

"Hmm, I can say with certainty that I won't drink it…" Sagres thought for a moment, then decided to be honest. "I need it to trade for something."

The Headmaster remained silent, simply watching him quietly, waiting for the explanation.

"Uh… a time-turner. An unregistered time-turner, because it's broken."

Sagres's tone was casual. It was a personal goal, and even if he was refused, it wouldn't matter too much.

Upon hearing this, the Headmaster's brows furrowed—almost imperceptibly.

"I will help you ask Nicolas Flamel."

"Thank you."

"Hmm, I don't think he'll refuse you. After all, you helped protect the Philosopher's Stone this time..." Professor Dumbledore's tone was confident.

Just as Sagres was about to speak, Professor Dumbledore's expression turned stern.

"But I must warn you, Sagres..."

The old man's voice was solemn and serious. "All magic involving time is extremely dangerous. I don't want Hogwarts to lose an excellent professor because of it."

Sagres nodded, indicating that he understood the Headmaster's concerns.

Professor Dumbledore sighed lightly.

"Moreover, the abuse of a time-turner can lead one to become obsessed with 'correcting mistakes,' while neglecting the importance of accepting reality..."

"I understand," Sagres replied with a smile. "I have no intention of changing anything. I just want to keep a... possible option."

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