HP: The Dangerous Azkaban Professor

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"Wait… traveler…" One of them struggled to lift their head, their voice hoarse and faint.

"Begging for mercy now?" Sargeras let out a cold, mocking laugh. His slender fingers twirled the wand he had taken with casual disdain. "Don't you think it's a little too late for that?"

CRACK—!

The sound of something snapping echoed crisply through the air as Sargeras broke their wand clean in two.

"You lot forced my hand…" He drew in a long, steady breath, and his tone carried a hint of reluctant regret. "I honestly thought… I'd never have to use these magic spells again. Thought they'd rot away, buried deep in my heart forever."

A blazing meteor came crashing down from the sky, smashing into the grotesque creature of flesh and blood. The fiery red mass sank into the abomination's enormous body like a droplet of water disappearing into a lake, absorbed entirely without a trace.

An eerie crimson glow began to spread across the creature's grotesque skin, as though it had just been infused with some wicked, unnatural power.

"Choose your death," Sargeras spoke with terrifying calm, his voice cold as ice. "Quick… or slow?"

The flesh monstrosity let out a deafening roar that shook the ground beneath their feet. Its massive, bloated body began to writhe and squirm.

"If you kill us now… you'll be lost in the river of time forever!" the woman suddenly shouted, her voice sharp and controlled, cutting through the raging wind as clear as a bell.

Sargeras's brows furrowed tightly in an instant. He slightly raised his left hand, and in the blink of an eye, the countless meteors that filled the sky froze in place. Even the grotesque creature halted, its movements locked in time.

"Well, well… how interesting…" He tapped his wand lightly, and with a faint shimmer of blue light, the snapped wand in his hand mended itself, returning to its pristine state as though it had never known damage.

"Tell me…" His gaze turned sharp as a blade, and his voice left no room for argument. "Rowena Ravenclaw… what else do you know?"

The woman met his eyes without the slightest hint of surprise, as if she had expected him to recognize her all along.

"You need my help," she replied calmly, her voice carrying quiet certainty. "Otherwise… when the hourglass of time runs dry… you'll be trapped forever in the cracks between time."

Sargeras narrowed his eyes. "Keep talking."

"I followed the guidance of the stars… I came here to show you the way back," Ravenclaw's eyes glimmered faintly with an otherworldly light. "In exchange… I'll need you to help us deal with… a little trouble."

Sargeras curled his lips into a cold smile. "Let's change the terms… how about this? You help me deal with my trouble, and in return…" His eyes swept slowly across the two of them, his voice carrying quiet menace. "I let you all walk away… alive."

"Deal…!"

The woman's decisiveness caught Sargeras off guard for a moment. He even suspected… she had been planning to make this concession from the very beginning.

"So then… how exactly do you plan to help me?" he asked, his voice low and curious.

"You'll have to give me the Hourglass of Time first…"

Sargeras didn't say a word. His eyes lingered on the woman for a few seconds, silent and expressionless. But in the end… he still reached into his cloak and pulled out the hourglass, tossing it to her along with the freshly mended wand.

Rowena Ravenclaw took the hourglass in her hand, studying it carefully for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice calm and certain.

"You got this… from someone else, didn't you?"

Sargeras neither confirmed nor denied it. "Is there a problem?"

"The hourglass… has been tampered with…"

A sharp glint flashed through Sargeras's eyes as he narrowed them dangerously. The first person who came to mind… was Snowy Owl. But then… he remembered that she had already given him a warning.

Rowena Ravenclaw's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Although the other party's handiwork is precise… the craftsmanship is crude," she said softly. Her fingertips traced the faint, almost invisible golden threads coiled around the hourglass, her expression unwavering as she declared, "This wasn't an accident. It's a carefully designed trap. Someone deliberately removed a key node from the threads of fate… and that's why… you ended up at the wrong moment in time."

Sargeras's adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, and his face darkened noticeably. Ravenclaw thought his reaction meant he had figured out who the culprit was, but in truth… he was silently cursing himself.

Of course he knew who the culprit was…

It was none other than… the arrogant fool named Sargeras Greengrass.

"How can it be fixed?" he asked, deliberately avoiding Ravenclaw's probing gaze as he seized the chance to steer the conversation away.

The witch let out a soft sigh. The tip of her wand sparked with silver-blue light, casting faint reflections across her face. "Once the threads of fate are completely disturbed… restoring them is nearly impossible. However…"

She reached into her robes and pulled out a small Ptolemaic armillary sphere, no bigger than a pigeon egg. It was clearly… another time-turner artifact.

She tossed it to Sargeras and spoke with cool certainty, "Use this instead. I've already calibrated the timeline for you…"

Sargeras caught the Ptolemaic Armillary in his hand for a moment, giving it a quick glance before slipping it into his pocket. His voice returned to that cool, detached calm.

"Alright then… tell me. What sort of trouble do you need me to deal with?"

A faint smile flickered across Ravenclaw's face… but it vanished almost instantly.

"The witch hunts are getting worse," she began softly, but her voice carried quiet steel beneath the words. "More and more wizards and witches are being hunted, tried, and… executed. The Church's pyres… the nobles' bounties… the Muggles' fear… all of it is pushing our people to the brink of extinction."

Salazar Slytherin raised his hand, and in an instant, magical images materialized in the air…

A young witch was being dragged onto a scaffold. The tattered hem of her dress barely concealed a badly deformed cat's tail — a clear sign of a failed transformation spell.

The crowd roared with frenzied excitement. Some, emboldened by the spectacle, struck her with wooden sticks. Others, even bolder, reached out with iron tongs — used for handling burning coals — and shamelessly lifted her skirt.

There were also children, barely able to control their magic, captured by Muggles during magical outbursts. They had almost no ability to resist. What awaited them… were brutal interrogations and the infamous trial by water — if they sank, they were deemed innocent, though they would drown; if they floated… they were condemned as witches, then executed.

In a dim, damp dungeon, an old man shackled to the wall was having his fingernails brutally ripped out one by one with iron pincers… all because a neighbor had accused him of "bewitching the cows into giving no milk" with a mere glance.

Charred skin peeled away in the flames. Children thrashed helplessly inside waterlogged sacks. Agonized screams echoed through the magical illusion as fingernails were ripped from raw, bleeding flesh.

Compared to the recorded histories he remembered of the witch hunts, these scenes were far crueler… far more unbearable.

Though the vast majority of the victims in those frenzied witch hunts were Muggles, the wizarding community had also suffered a nearly fatal blow.

The master-apprentice system of passing down knowledge meant that magic at this time was still in an incredibly primitive state. Most wizards… had absolutely no way to resist the armies of the Church or the knights of the nobility.

Sargeras fell silent for a long moment.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" His own voice sounded dry and strained in his ears. "Start a war? Or…"

"We need to change things," Ravenclaw interrupted firmly, her expression unwavering, her voice clear and resolute. "We must protect young witches and wizards… and pass on the knowledge of magic."

"So… you're saying… you want to open a school?" Sargeras raised an eyebrow slightly.

"A school? A school… specifically for raising wizards?" Ravenclaw's brows arched faintly, her tone thoughtful.

"Isn't that what you meant?" Sargeras countered.

"No… a school is actually a good idea…" Ravenclaw's eyes took on a distant, pondering look. "It's just…"

"It's just not that simple!" Salazar Slytherin interrupted abruptly, his voice low and forceful.

"Then what is it exactly you need me to do?"

"You already know in your heart." Ravenclaw's gaze lingered on him meaningfully, her eyes calm and deep. "You know what needs to be done…"

Sargeras understood immediately. As a traveler through time, he knew the distant future. They didn't need him to reveal everything, but they did need him to… point them in the right direction.

"Then build the school. Right here." He stamped his foot lightly, and the grotesque creature of flesh and blood beneath him responded with a heavy thud that made the ground tremble. "Hogwarts… a place to shelter every child born with magical talent."

"Hogwarts?" The two nearby exchanged confused glances. "That's… the name of the school? Why call it… Hog… warts…"

"If you don't like it, Azkaban works too!" Sargeras replied casually.

"…Better stick with Hogwarts," Ravenclaw murmured. Somehow, she had a vague feeling the second name probably carried… far less pleasant meaning.

"But why though? What's so special about… Hog… warts?" Slytherin frowned deeply, unable to stop himself from asking the question.

"Don't ask!" Sargeras cut him off bluntly. The truth was… he didn't really know either.

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This wasn't just about saving the wizarding world.

It was, in its own way… about saving the Muggles too.

After all, those Muggles falsely accused of witchcraft were the most innocent victims of all. But no one… would ever reach out a hand to help them.

The wizards wouldn't. And the Muggles… they certainly wouldn't.

But Sargeras… was willing to try. Maybe… because he had once been a Muggle himself?

"We'll have to wait for Godric and Helga to return before we can decide," Ravenclaw finally added softly. "They're… our companions."

Sargeras didn't respond. He simply raised his hand.

High above them, the floating meteors that had been suspended in the air suddenly shifted course, plummeting toward the earth like falling stars.

In the distance, they slammed into the ground, carving out a massive crater. The scorching heat was so intense… it melted the rocks at the bottom into black, glassy obsidian.

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[Chapter End's]

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