HP: Dangerous Professor from Azkaban

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Sagres expressionlessly put away the hourglass, his gaze sweeping one last time around the simple stone chamber before he turned and left.

When he stepped back onto the cold ground, the previously empty Chamber of Secrets was now packed with people, bustling around the motionless, tall, and grotesque flesh monster.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood at the very front, his silver beard flowing and his expression grave, with the four Heads of House standing behind him like silent guardians.

Lucius Malfoy, accompanied by several displeased School Board members, was quietly conversing with Fudge.

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge himself was red-faced, surrounded by several nervous Aurors, their wands tightly gripped.

The noisiest of all were Rita Skeeter and the photographers and stenographers she had brought from The Daily Prophet; they were like vultures that had caught the scent of blood, their cameras greedily aimed at the immobile flesh monster, flashbulbs popping.

Her Quick-Quotes Quill also danced wildly in the air, frantically capturing every detail.

Poor Gilderoy Lockhart was huddled in a corner, ignored by everyone except Rita Skeeter, who occasionally cast him a malicious, gleeful glance, directing her quill to write an exaggerated description.

The moment Sagres appeared, all eyes instantly focused on him.

The crowd surged towards him as if drawn by a magnet, and a wave of mixed shock, fear, and questioning washed over him.

"What happened here?"

Fudge was the first to speak, his voice somewhat blustering but carrying the imperiousness typical of a Minister. "And what… what is that monster? How did Professor Lockhart end up like that? And you, Sagres, what exactly did you do in there?"

His chubby finger almost poked Sagres's nose.

"Explain! Immediately!"

A School Board member also sharply echoed, and Sagres glanced at him, realizing he was an old wizard from a pure-blood family.

Rita Skeeter pushed her way to the front, her thick, scarlet-lipsticked mouth spewing sharp questions like a machine gun, her shorthand quill buzzing excitedly:

"Mr. Greengrass! Exclusive! Tell us the truth! Are you the mastermind behind this appalling incident? What is your connection to this monster? Or…"

Her beetle-like eyes gleamed with malice, and she deliberately drew out her words, throwing out the most vicious accusation, "…are you the culprit who controlled this monster? Using it to achieve some unspeakable purpose?"

The air around them seemed to freeze.

Snape had his usual sneer, while Lucius watched coldly, saying nothing, even subtly taking a step back.

Fudge and the Aurors were clearly affected by Rita's accusation, their gazes at Sagres filled with wariness and distrust, especially since they already distrusted someone who had come out of Azkaban.

Sagres looked around, showing no sign of being provoked, but rather a nearly weary calm.

He ignored Rita's provocation and, in a clear but unruffled tone, began his "explanation":

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice was not loud, but it strangely overpowered the clamor, "as you can see, sealed here is an experimental body left by Salazar Slytherin. Unfortunately, a fragment of Lord Voldemort's memory controlled Professor Lockhart to come here, and ultimately possessed this body, leading to… everything you see before you."

He paused slightly, his gaze sweeping over the suspicious faces of the crowd, lingering for a moment longer on Rita's excited face, and continued:

"As for Professor Lockhart," he gestured toward the corner, "he attempted to resolve this problem, but unfortunately… his Memory Charm seems to have been applied with too much force, directly clearing all of Lord Voldemort's memories. The result is… a thing, stripped of all memory, with only primal instincts remaining."

"Absurd!" Fudge immediately retorted. "You-Know-Who is dead!"

His voice trembled with agitation, eager to convince everyone. "A memory possessing someone? And then being dumbed down by a Memory Charm? This sounds like a plot from a third-rate wizard novel! Where's the evidence? Sagres, what we need is concrete evidence, not your vague 'explanation'!"

"Evidence?" Rita Skeeter shrieked with a sneer, her shorthand quill flying even faster.

"Minister, this is probably just a bizarre story concocted by the culprit to escape blame! Look at him, walking out of Salazar Slytherin's secret room unharmed, and then look at that monster… there's no connection between them? Who would believe that? The Daily Prophet readers need the truth! And that truth, very likely, is—you, Sagres Greengrass, are the real mastermind! You created all this chaos!"

She pressed closer, her spittle almost spraying onto Sagres's face, her greed and malice undisguised.

Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice steady and powerful: "Rita, in the absence of evidence, you cannot accuse a Hogwarts Professor like this!"

But Rita was already consumed by the frenzy of her self-created "exclusive story."

She interrupted Dumbledore: "Evidence? Headmaster Dumbledore, sometimes the truth is hidden in the most obvious clues! A person once imprisoned in Azkaban for murder, a monster that suddenly appeared, a withered, half-dead Professor—isn't this a carefully orchestrated conspiracy? Sagres, do you dare to undergo Veritaserum testing? Or let us search your room?"

Sagres frowned slightly; Fudge's imperious tone and Rita Skeeter's quill, almost poking his nose, made him extremely displeased.

He raised his hand, and an invisible barrier gently pushed the too-close crowd back half a step.

Woom!

Then he calmly looked at Rita Skeeter, his tone unruffled: "Rita Skeeter… are you questioning the veracity of my explanation?"

The calm questioning carried an invisible pressure that made several people standing too close instinctively shrink their necks.

But the fire in Rita's eyes burned even brighter, as if she had caught the scent of an ultimate scoop. Not only did she not retreat, but she straightened her back, her jewel-encrusted glasses reflecting malicious light, and her voice rose to a piercing pitch:

"Ha! Professor Greengrass, are you threatening me?"

Her quill left afterimages in the air, scribbling madly on her shorthand pad, spittle almost spraying onto the invisible barrier.

"Look! How typical! This proves I hit a nerve! Perhaps this whole thing was your conspiracy from start to finish! A vengeful masterpiece for Hogwarts' expulsion of you back then! But I must tell you—"

She lunged forward, her painted face almost pressing against the barrier, her voice filled with a morbid, self-congratulatory fervor:

"—Despite your attempts to intimidate, I, Rita Skeeter, to uncover the truth, will never be afraid! I! Will never! Compromise!"

Her last few words were almost shrieked, sounding particularly harsh in the now silent Chamber of Secrets.

The surrounding flashbulbs flickered even more wildly because of her "heroic" posture, as if recording the moment of a future "martyr."

A suffocating tension filled the air; everyone could feel that something… had been completely ignited.