HP: Dangerous Professor from Azkaban

But Sagres was, after all, a reasonable person (or so he considered himself). They had worked together in a secret organization for so long. If someone took the initiative to show weakness and yield, he couldn't just kill them brutally without cause.

This wasn't a game, after all; killing didn't grant experience points.

Snowy Owl drew her wand, its tip firmly pressed against Glock's throat. Sweat beaded on the Goblin's forehead, making him appear even more terrified and uneasy.

"Why did you attack me?" Snowy Owl's face was like frost, her tone cold. "And flipping the table was too deliberate—you were clearly trying to cover something up!"

"M.. Madam Snowy Owl, I was just blinded by greed for a moment, and I've already paid a heavy price for it…" Glock trembled, showing his severed arm, and pleaded in a low, humble voice, "But I truly am not an informant. What Goblin would invite trouble by dealing with an Auror? Please believe me—everything I'm saying is true…"

Just then, Nightingale pulled a delicate black vial from her wizard robe, and everyone's gaze instantly locked on her.

"Powerful Veritaserum. Just three drops, and the truth will come out," Nightingale said as she raised the vial.

Glock's face turned ashen, but under the threatening stares of the crowd, he ultimately didn't dare to resist.

...

...

"Um.. Why did his ears turn purple?" Kestrel asked, wide-eyed, as she stared at the Goblin who had taken the Veritaserum.

"It's a side effect of Veritaserum on a Goblin," Thunderbird explained knowledgeably. "Humans have a similar reaction—the fading color shows the potion's effects are wearing off."

Nightingale nodded in agreement, then began the interrogation without delay.

"Your true name?"

Glock lay quietly on the ground, dazed at first. Then, a layer of tiny, shimmering runes appeared on his skin, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Mauritius Glock!"

"Have you ever leaked secrets to the Ministry of Magic?"

"I have not!"

"Have you betrayed Bronze Feather's meeting information to others?"

"I have not!"

The old Goblin's eyes were vacant, and he answered each question mechanically.

Everyone's expressions grew serious once again.

It wasn't him…

That meant the leak had come from someone else.

...

"Heh~"

Sagres slowly approached Glock, carefully examining the shimmering runes on his body.

"Is something wrong?" Nightingale asked, puzzled.

Sagres straightened up, a smile of unclear meaning still on his lips.

"He's faking it well. Has he taken Veritaserum before?"

Glock remained motionless, only his large ears twitching slightly—almost imperceptibly.

Nightingale was momentarily stunned. Was this old Goblin really pretending?

Upon hearing Sagres's words, everyone turned their gaze to Nightingale. Clearly, they didn't doubt Sagres's judgment, so Nightingale, who had produced the Veritaserum, became the primary suspect.

Nightingale frowned deeply, about to explain, but Sagres spoke again.

"It has nothing to do with her." He pointed at the motionless Glock. "He has anti-interrogation runes branded on him by Gringotts."

The newcomer Wren suddenly understood. "Goblins at Gringotts who know vault passwords are all branded with these runes to prevent them from leaking secrets."

Snowy Owl pursed her lips in disdain. "I didn't realize you were a Gringotts Goblin."

Upon hearing this, the tense nerves of Falcon and the others finally relaxed. They had indeed feared that Sagres might use this opportunity to eliminate dissent and attack them. Now it seemed that finding the real leaker would be for the best.

"But why did you leak Bronze Feather's meeting location to the Ministry of Magic?" The white-haired Albatross stood up angrily, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

The Goblin still lay stiffly on the ground, unmoving.

"Tell us! You traitor!" the newcomer Wren also shouted, drawing his wand in a fit of rage and pointing it directly at Glock's forehead.

Glock finally stopped pretending and struggled to crawl up from the ground, repeatedly begging for mercy.

"Spare me!" the old Goblin cried out in terror. "I was indeed faking it, but I truly wasn't lying!"

"Still trying to argue!" Wren was furious, the light at the tip of his wand growing brighter—clearly ready to cast a few nasty curses.

Sagres narrowed his eyes at the scene. If he didn't intervene, this old Goblin might be executed on the spot by the crowd.

"Everyone…" Sagres pointed at the terrified Goblin. "If we're going to investigate, let's do it thoroughly—I'll examine his memories."

As soon as he finished speaking, he unhesitatingly waved his wand. Regardless of Glock's willingness, he forcibly extracted the threads of memory from the Goblin's temple, using his own created spell "Memory Replay" to review them one by one before everyone like a projector.

Ultimately, it proved that the old Goblin had indeed not lied; this matter had nothing to do with him.

Then Sagres casually waved his wand, sending the memory threads back into the Goblin's mind.

After this ordeal, however, the Goblin might become rather forgetful. Given his already advanced age, there was a high risk of senile dementia upon waking.

Still, this was a fortunate outcome—his life had nearly been forfeit moments earlier. Now, at least, he could still enjoy his remaining years, couldn't he?

"It seems the matter isn't over yet…" Sagres slowly scanned the crowd, speaking calmly. "But there's still plenty of Veritaserum. Finding the truth is only a matter of time."

Then he pointed at the newcomer, Wren. "You're next."

"What? Me?"

"Yes, you." Sagres nodded. The other's behavior had been far too aggressive—for a newcomer, it was conspicuously suspicious.

He didn't care whether she was willing. He simply nodded toward Nightingale, signaling her to proceed.

Nightingale tapped the mouth of the bottle lightly three times with her wand, and three drops of metallic-sheened liquid fell precisely into Wren's forcibly opened mouth.

The middle-aged woman's pupils instantly dilated, her ears began to change color, and at the same time, vascular silver patterns appeared beneath her skin.

"Your true name."

"Eliza Ferguson." Her voice was mechanical and hollow, saliva uncontrollably dripping from the corners of her mouth.

"Have you ever leaked secrets to the Ministry of Magic?"

"—Yes."

Everyone's expressions shifted instantly.

"Which organization do you belong to?"

"—Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Albatross's face darkened immediately.

"Do you have accomplices?"

"—No."

"Your objective?"

"To lie low, observe, assess, and find an opportunity to capture the wanted criminal—Shrike Kelfist."

The once-spirited Albatross seemed to have his beliefs shattered in an instant; he slumped to the ground, barely able to believe his ears.

A few soft chuckles came from the crowd.

"Old man, are you so far gone you think life's not worth living? To actually recommend someone from the Ministry of Magic?"

The informant, Stork, spoke with biting sarcasm.

"This time… this time I was old and confused. I'll make it up to you..."

Albatross looked utterly dejected, as if all his strength had drained away.

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