HP: The Dangerous Azkaban Professor

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He was truly grateful to be back at Hogwarts. After all, this place boasted the largest magical library in all of Britain — those private collections hoarded by the pure-blood families paled pitifully in comparison.

Perhaps those families still held some advantage when it came to social status, but even among the pure-bloods, nearly all of them relied on school education as the main means of passing down their knowledge.

In that sense, what the four founders of Hogwarts had done was nothing short of remarkable. They had transformed the ancient, restrictive master-apprentice tradition into an academy-based system… and that, more than anything, had greatly advanced the magical world as a whole.

Sargeras jotted down a few notes and circled some of the more obscure passages in the manuscript before rising to his feet. He made his way toward the Restricted Section, intending to look up the relevant materials.

But just as he turned the corner, his footsteps came to an abrupt halt—the shrill, grating voice of Peeves the Poltergeist echoed from around the stairwell corner, sharp and jarring in the otherwise silent corridor.

"Who's there?" The troublemaker dragged out the words in that screechy, mocking tone of his, the sound circling through the air like a bald vulture catching the scent of decay. "I might not be able to see you, but Peeves the Great knows all too well… someone's sneakin' about!"

Sargeras let out a helpless sigh, quietly drawing back the right foot he had already stepped forward with.

Perfect. Ran into them again! It really seemed like these little wizards were particularly fond of sneaking around at night!

Raising his wand, Sargeras tapped lightly against the stone wall beside him. The heavy marble surface instantly dissolved into a pane of transparent, one-way glass. Through this magical window, he could clearly see Peeves clutching the tassels of the stairwell's carpet, pulling faces at the empty hallway.

"Let me guess…" Peeves suddenly floated upside down in mid-air, twisting his face into a wicked grin. "Is it Moaning Myrtle, blubberin' away again? Or maybe one o' those sneaky little ghouls pilferin' scraps from the kitchens? Or perhaps…" His eyes gleamed with glee. "Some naughty little night-crawler out for a stroll!"

With that, he yanked the carpet off the steps and threw it over his head like a cloak, clearly gearing up to belt out one of his infamous tattletale songs.

But just as he opened his mouth, a low, hoarse whisper drifted through the air. It was quiet, yet it carried a chilling weight.

"The Bloody Baron does not wish to be seen… and he always has his reasons."

The sound made Peeves freeze in mid-air, his whole body stiffening as if an invisible hand had closed around his throat. He performed a clumsy somersault, his jingling hat nearly flying off his head.

"L-Lord Baron!" Peeves' voice instantly turned syrupy with obsequiousness, sweet enough to make one's teeth ache. With an exaggerated theatrical flair, he swept into a deep, trembling curtsey. "Your most loyal servant Peeves humbly offers his sincerest apologies!"

As he spoke, he even pretended to slap himself twice across the face. "Blasted useless fish-eyes of mine—always gettin' me into trouble!"

"Leave," came the curt, icy command from the empty air.

Peeves immediately shot off like a punctured balloon, zipping up the staircase with a faint whooshing sound. On the way, he clumsily knocked over a portrait frame. The sleepy occupant inside mumbled drowsily, only catching a fleeting rainbow-colored blur vanishing around the corner.

Sargeras narrowed his eyes. He couldn't see them, but he didn't need to. It wasn't hard to guess who had spoken to Peeves. Other than Harry Potter, hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak, who else could it be? Perhaps those two ever-present little companions of his were tagging along as well.

"How interesting…" A faint smile curled across Sargeras' lips as he gave a gentle flick of his wand, lifting the Transfiguration charm that had turned the stone wall into glass.

This staircase led straight to the fourth-floor corridor — the very place Dumbledore had warned about during the Start-of-term Feast, strictly forbidding any student from going near it.

Piecing together a few other scattered details, it wasn't hard to deduce that this was where Dumbledore had hidden the Philosopher's Stone. And from snippets of conversation among the Professors', it was also clear that several of them had helped design protective enchantments, layering traps and trials upon one another to keep the stone safe.

Harry's reason for sneaking here was obvious enough. Judging by what Hagrid had accidentally let slip that afternoon, perhaps they were simply curious… or maybe they were worried.

Sargeras didn't dwell deeper on it. After all, everyone had been a student once, and the minds of young witches and wizards were always brimming with strange and impulsive ideas. They might believe their reasons for secrecy were noble, even if, from an adult's perspective, those reasons seemed laughably naive.

Nor did he bother apprehending the little night-crawlers. Instead, he cast a Disillusionment Charm over Noctis perched on his shoulder, letting the raven silently follow them from the shadows.

It didn't take long before Noctis had trailed them right up to the outside of the fourth-floor corridor — the door was already cracked open.

Through the raven's obsidian eyes, Sargeras saw the door being tugged ajar, then quickly pulled shut again. Noctis, swift as a shadow, darted through the gap just before it closed.

The moment the raven slipped into the room, a massive three-headed dog filled its vision, its hulking body sprawled across the floor. It had to be the creature Hagrid had mentioned… Fluffy. But at the moment, the great beast lay sound asleep, its heads gently snoring, and a harp rested beside its enormous paws.

Clearly, someone had been here before them.

Sargeras' eyes brightened with interest. He had originally followed along simply to satisfy his curiosity about the students sneaking out after curfew… he hadn't expected such a delightful surprise.

By now, Sargeras had already returned to his seat in the Restricted Section of the library, but there was no need to rush deciphering the manuscript. He placed the parchment carefully on the table, his full attention fixed on this unexpected little "live broadcast" playing out before him.

Through Noctis' sharp eyes, he watched as the slumbering three-headed dog's noses twitched restlessly, its heads stirring slightly as if rousing from sleep.

Just at that moment, the Invisibility Cloak was lifted — and the three young wizards suddenly appeared out of thin air.

Harry Potter pulled out a flute and started playing it softly. The three-headed dog tilted its heads, lulled once more into a deep, heavy slumber. Meanwhile, Ron crept over and carefully pulled open the trapdoor on the floor. The three of them clustered around the opening, peering curiously down into the darkness.

The hole was pitch black — nothing could be seen inside.

Sargeras watched as the three of them exchanged a few hushed words. Then Harry handed the flute to Hermione, took a deep breath, and leapt straight down.

"What? Seriously? That's way too reckless…" Sargeras couldn't help muttering under his breath, a hint of amusement slipping into his tone.

The boy had just jumped straight down like that, without so much as checking if the fall was too high or if there were spikes waiting to impale him at the bottom. No hesitation, no fear of traps.

To be honest, Sargeras rather admired that kind of courage. No wonder they called him the Chosen One. But for ordinary folks? Yeah… probably not the best idea—most wouldn't even know how they died.

Seeing the other two young wizards follow his lead and jump down after him, Sargeras quickly guided Noctis to follow, the raven cutting through the air and diving gracefully into the darkness.

The space below was completely shrouded in blackness. Even through the raven's sharp eyes, it was hard to make out the surroundings.

Black vines crept and slithered everywhere, coiling like living shadows. Only on closer inspection did Sargeras realise it was an entire patch of Devil's Snare. The enchanted plant stretched out its tendrils like serpents, silently wrapping around the limbs of the three students without them even noticing.

Hermione, being the last one down, managed to wriggle free before the vines had a firm grip on her. She stumbled back, eyes wide with horror, as she watched the two boys struggle desperately against the tightening plants. But the more they thrashed and pulled, the faster and tighter the vines coiled around them.

Sargeras nearly laughed aloud. That's what happens when you act without thinking.

"Stop moving!" Hermione suddenly shouted, her voice sharp and echoing through the damp, stone chamber. "It's Devil's Snare! The more you struggle… the tighter it'll squeeze around you!"

Ron's face was already turning a deep shade of purple. A thick, muscular vine had snaked around his neck like a python, tightening with every passing second.

"Fantastic!" he gritted his teeth, forcing the words out as the thick vine squeezed tighter around him. "Knowing it's called Devil's Snare is so helpful… now at least I'll know… what strangled me to… death!"

"Help us, Hermione! Stop gawking… and figure out how to deal with it!"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" Hermione bit down on her lower lip, her brown curls sticking to her damp forehead as sweat beaded on her face.

"For Merlin's sake, hurry up… or the only thing you'll be rescuing is our corpses."

The young witch completely ignored their frantic bickering. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with realization. "Professor Sprout mentioned it before—Devil's Snare loves dark and damp places…"

Harry, still wrestling with the vines constricting his chest, shouted through gritted teeth, "Then set it on fire!"

His glasses hung crookedly on the bridge of his nose, the lenses fogged up with moisture.

"B-but…" Hermione frantically patted her empty pockets, her expression growing more anxious by the second. "I… I don't have any firewood on me!"

"…"

"…"

Sargeras nearly blacked out on the spot. Even the raven, Noctis, perched quietly nearby, almost toppled over in exasperation.

The professor of Advanced Charms Theory and Practical Magic pressed a hand to his forehead, his face contorted like someone who had just been hit squarely with a Stunning Spell.

"Merlin's beard…"

Suddenly, Ron's furious roar echoed through the chamber. He was dangling upside down now, completely tangled in the Devil's Snare like a panicked monkey clinging to a tree. "You're a witch! Use that damned wand of yours for once!"

His words struck Hermione like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh… right!"

She yanked out her wand in an instant, while her other hand fumbled for the crystal vial hanging around her neck — a gift from Harry, carefully tucked away, containing a pre-cast spell.

She popped the cork, and a miniature glowing figure emerged, floating under her control—it was a spell she had captured during one of Sargeras' lectures, bottled and ready to use.

"Lumos!"

Brilliant white light burst forth from the little glowing figure, illuminating the dark chamber like a radiant sun.

The two boys, still tangled in the Devil's Snare, immediately felt a wave of comforting warmth wash over them. Within seconds, the vines began recoiling, shrinking away from the light, and loosening their grip entirely, retreating back into the shadows as they slipped free.

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[Chapter End's]

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