HP: The Dangerous Azkaban Professor

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After returning from the Forbidden Forest, he made sure to find time to report everything that had happened in there to Dumbledore. The old headmaster took it extremely seriously and immediately ordered Hagrid not to set foot in the forest again for the time being.

But Hogwarts was facing a bit of a problem… the school had always maintained a partnership with Ollivanders's wand shop. Hogwarts provided materials, and in return, Ollivander would offer discounts to first-year students when they went to buy their wands. Yet this year, for all sorts of reasons, Hagrid hadn't managed to collect enough unicorn tail hairs.

And so, the task of venturing into the Forbidden Forest to gather materials alongside Hagrid had naturally fallen to Sargeras. Though he was utterly unwilling, the truth was… he didn't have any real excuse to get out of it.

"Think of it as doing a good deed…"He kept comforting himself like that in his heart, feeling as though he might as well cast a Confundus Charm on himself while he was at it.

While collecting materials with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest, he also took the chance to search for any trace of Voldemort. But in the end, he found nothing. The forest was simply too vast, and if Voldemort really had been wounded by Veiliss last time… then the Dark Lord would surely be hiding even deeper within.

The final exams had already come to an end, but the young witches and wizards still had to stay at Hogwarts for another week, waiting for their grades to be released.

For some of them, this stretch of time was pure torment — Harry and Ron, for example. The two of them had always been stuck in that awkward middle ground when it came to grades. Even though Hermione had practically dragged them through revision sessions before the exams, there was simply too much material to memorize and recite. In the end, they had pretty much given up altogether.

"Ahh… finally, I can breathe again, no more textbooks smothering me…" Ron flopped down onto the grass, his nose dusted with golden dandelion pollen. "This weather's perfect for a nap."

The three of them were lounging under the shade of the trees, where dappled sunlight spilled across the ground, making people feel utterly sleepy. Suddenly, Harry shot upright from where he lay — a storm of chaotic fragments was churning furiously inside his mind.

"Hagrid!" He spun around abruptly, the hem of his wizard's robes brushing across the other two's faces. "We have to go see him… right now!"

Hermione quickly pushed herself up by her knees. "Are you out of your mind, Harry? We just had lunch —"

"Didn't you notice?" Harry's breathing was fast and shallow, as though fear was pressing in on him. "Hagrid's been dreaming of getting a dragon — and somehow, he just happens to get one. But that stranger… what right did he have to be wandering around with a dragon egg?"

He was speaking as he ran, the words tumbling out one after another. "How many people have you ever seen carry a dragon egg around in their pocket? That's a direct violation of the Statute of Secrecy! Not to mention…"

Suddenly, his voice cut off. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, forcing down the tightness in his throat. "…Not to mention, getting Hagrid to spill the beans isn't exactly a difficult thing to do. No one knows that better than we do… right?"

The playful grin on Ron's face froze mid-expression. His eyes drifted toward the faint goosebumps rising along the back of Harry's neck, and in that moment, he realized… this wasn't just some random outburst.

By the time Sargeras and Hagrid had made their way back from the Forbidden Forest to the wooden hut, the trio was already running toward them in a panic.

"Hello there!" Hagrid called out cheerfully as he greeted them. "Did the exams go all right?"

"All right? Nothing could be worse…" Ron muttered under his breath, but the moment his eyes landed on Sargeras, his whole posture stiffened. He quickly straightened up and added, "…Good afternoon, Professor Greengrass."

"Hello there, Mr. Weasley."

The other two young wizards hurriedly offered their greetings as well.

"Hagrid, we've got something urgent… " Harry shot a quick glance toward Sargeras.

"Don't mind me, go on." Sargeras sipped his tea calmly, watching Hagrid as he brushed through a bundle of unicorn tail hairs.

"Do you remember the night you won Norbert, Hagrid?" Harry tried to bury the urgency in his chest, forcing his voice to sound steady and composed. "The bloke who gave Norbert to you… do you know who he was?"

Hagrid was still holding the silvery tail hairs in his rough hands. He didn't even bother to lift his head as he replied, "Never saw 'is face. That fella wouldn't take off 'is cloak no matter what."."

The three of them straightened their backs almost at the exact same moment, their eyes sharp as arrows, locked onto Hagrid's face with unwavering intensity.

"Don' look at me like that… that's perfectly normal." Hagrid muttered, scratching at his messy hair, looking entirely unbothered. "Yeh always get all sorts o' strange folk hangin' round the Hog's Head… Merlin knows what they really look like under them cloaks."

"We were playin' Explodin' Snap," Hagrid continued, waving a hand casually as though none of this was unusual. "To be honest, 'is luck was pretty good at first. I ended up downin' quite a few drinks 'cause o' him. But last round, I won… and Norbert became mine."

"At the time, he weren' all that willin'," Hagrid added, his voice growing a little more animated as he recalled the scene. "Said I didn't have what it takes ter tame a dragon. But I told 'im, I've never been scared o' werewolves or giants— even a three-headed dog listens to me like a house kitten…"

Harry's Adam's apple bobbed as he forced down a hard swallow. His voice came out strained, low, full of worry. "Did he… show any unusual interest in Fluffy?"

"'Course he did." Hagrid sounded completely unbothered, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "That's a three-headed dog, after all. Not many folk've ever seen one— even fewer've ever raised one. No surprise he was curious."

"And… did you tell him anything else?"

"Ahh, not really… jus' told him there's nothin' ter worry 'bout. I've got a knack fer dealin' with magical creatures. Take Fluffy, fer example… play him a bit o' music an' that little fella's as tame as a kitten…"

Sargeras let out a long sigh as he listened, while the three young wizards stared at Hagrid, their faces frozen in terror.

"…Should I… not've said that?" Hagrid finally caught on, his expression stiffening slightly. But the three young wizards had already turned and bolted.

"See you, Professor… see yeh, Hagrid!" The trio called out without so much as a glance back.

"Oi, don' run off! Get back here…" Hagrid's huge palm slapped heavily against the oak door, sending a faint shower of dust drifting down from the walls.

"Music? What bloody music? I never said a word 'bout music…"

"Hagrid, you…" Sargeras opened his mouth, but after a good long moment of hesitation, he still couldn't quite find the right words to describe what he was feeling.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Hagrid blinked at him, puzzled.

"…Ah, nothing." In truth, what he really wanted to ask was—Were you raised on Veritaserum or something?

But it didn't really matter. After all, not long ago, Sargeras had already gone to Dumbledore to ask about it, and the old headmaster had told him the Philosopher's Stone was perfectly safe.

What's more, Dumbledore remained stationed at Hogwarts himself. As for Quirrell, that cowardly little pawn, he clearly wasn't up to the task. The man spent every day desperately hoping someone would notice how strange he was acting and come rescue him from Voldemort's clutches.

And Voldemort himself… didn't dare set foot in Hogwarts so rashly.

Which meant that for the time being, the Philosopher's Stone was indeed safe and sound.

Still, Sargeras knew he had to make good use of his free time. He needed to comb through the Forbidden Forest thoroughly. If luck was on his side, maybe — just maybe — he could stumble upon some trace of the Dark Lord.

Yet that very afternoon, Dumbledore summoned him to the office. The old headmaster explained that he needed to make a trip to the Ministry of Magic, and instructed Sargeras to hold off on any further searches of the Forbidden Forest for now.

Sargeras had no objections to this. After returning to his office, he simply went along with it and picked up the manuscript of De Vermis Mysteriis, settling in to study it. After all, it wasn't like he had anything better to do.

The De Vermis Mysteriis (Mysteries of the Worm)… this manuscript had been born in the twelfth century, deep beneath the ruins of a monastery somewhere in Venice—a place whose name had long since been erased from history. Its author, "Edmund the Blind Monk," was, in fact, a notorious inquisitor from the Muggle world.

During one of his witch-burning campaign, Edmund had stumbled upon a sheet of human skin, covered in strange writing. He spent thirty-nine long years locked away in the monastery's underground laboratory before finally completing the manuscript.

Sargeras had come across a damaged copy of the manuscript during his travels around the world, though at the time, he had only been able to read the first half.

Even though the manuscript's contents carried an undeniable taint of spiritual corruption, it wasn't entirely filled with worthless dark magic. His own Flesh Flaying spell had been created after reading this very manuscript — a spell whose purpose went far beyond mere pain and torment.

In fact, from within that dangerous text, Sargeras had even gleaned the beginnings of some profound truths regarding flesh magic and soul magic. And once he thoroughly mastered the manuscript in its entirety… perhaps, within a short time, he would be able to invent an entirely new branch of soul magic altogether.

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