Chapter 7 - 7: 07: 'Beautiful' Past 2

When verbal attacks proved ineffective, they resorted to ambushing him with dark curses. At first, Sagres also inadvertently fell victim a few times—his face swelling like a pig's head, or his body growing hair. Although the negative effects of these minor curses weren't severe and Madam Pomfrey could fix them in a few minutes, Sagres couldn't possibly stay on high alert with his wand out all day long. After all, insults were one thing—but physical attacks were intolerable. He wasn't just a Ravenclaw who only focused on studying; it turned out his practical abilities were also strong. For the next period, Sagres spent his days attending classes, frequenting the Hogwarts Library, and precisely intercepting lone Slytherins to give them their daily "practical lessons" with his wand tip pressed against their trembling throats. For a time, Hogwarts was in an uproar. However, most of the time, after Sagres punished someone, he would cast a healing spell on them—at least to remove superficial wounds; otherwise, he would be given detention. As for psychological trauma, that was not within his consideration. Perhaps Sagres was too heavy-handed, and these underage young wizards were severely frightened—to the extent that members of some pure-blood families began to pressure Snape. The young Head of House repeatedly sought out Sagres for talks, even resorting to verbal threats. Initially, Sagres was cooperative, but he quickly realized that the Slytherin Head was not there to solve problems at all. He was extremely protective of his own, lacked fairness, and—without distinguishing right from wrong—gave Sagres detention. This infuriated Sagres, and he tried to report it to Dumbledore, but to little avail. Having no other choice, Sagres, with nowhere to turn for help, redirected his anger onto the Slytherin students. This time, he didn't wait for others to provoke him; instead, he actively sought out trouble with them, and after he was done, he would even heal them fully. When students reported him, he simply denied it. Sagres still remembered what he had said at the time: "Professor, you said I used a cutting spell on him?" He wore a face full of confusion. "How is that possible? How could I use such an aggressive spell on a classmate? You must be mistaken." "Besides, they don't even have a scratch on them. If this isn't a misunderstanding, then it's blatant slander." "What? You said I cast a spell on him and then healed him? Who would do something so boring?" This tug-of-war ended when Dumbledore branded his secondhand wand with a Trace. The moment the old wand touched the yew wood shaft, Sagres sensed the warning lurking behind those half-moon spectacles. He understood that from then on, Dumbledore could see every spell he cast with that wand—if the Headmaster wished. That dusk, Sagres leaned against the top of the Ravenclaw Tower, letting the mountain wind fill his robes. Finally, he chose to seal the secondhand wand in a dragonhide case and then desperately practiced silent, wandless casting at the top of the Astronomy Tower. To be honest, everyone in the magical world should be grateful that Sagres is a transmigrator. After all, if it weren't for the imprint of nine years of compulsory education from his previous life, Sagres might very well have become another Dark Lord. During that time, he spent his days either in class or in detention, and only in the quiet of night could he secretly slip into the Hogwarts Library, reading ravenously. At that time, Snape—just like today—would always come to the Hogwarts Library late at night to catch him. Sometimes, Sagres would luckily escape, but more often, he would be caught and then continue to be given detention. Peeves also contributed a lot to this. Initially, Sagres would feel angry and disheartened, but as time went on, he gradually let it go. Fortunately, his diligent practice was not in vain; the power of his silent, wandless magic was now almost identical to when he used a wand. Later came the matter of his expulsion in fifth year. After self-studying a large number of spells in the Hogwarts Library at the time, the young Sagres began to try creating his own spells—without external aid. He secretly went to the Forbidden Forest late at night and there summoned his Patronus: a raven. Yes, he had a strong connection with ravens. At that time, he was somewhat disappointed with the effect of the Patronus Charm; this complex, advanced magic could only be used to ward off Dementors, and its effect was singular. He was determined to combine the Patronus with other magic to enhance its offensive power. Ultimately, he chose the Fiendfyre Curse. Woosh! Pale flames erupted from the pure white raven—completely different from the Fiendfyre he had used before. These pale flames were not only more bizarre in form but also more dangerous and difficult to control than Fiendfyre. The raven flew rapidly through the air with a brilliant fiery tail, and the scorching flames distorted the very air. For a moment, Sagres thought he had succeeded. But then, his Patronus began to wail, eventually turning to ash in the flames. The Fiendfyre Curse—this terrifying Dark Art—burned everything around Sagres to ashes. He was fortunate the spell did not go out of control; he had not fallen into the situation of playing with fire and getting burned. The attempt at creating a new spell ended in failure, but Sagres was not too disappointed. However, Snape, that persistent fellow, appeared again. Looking at the forest scorched into a wasteland, Sagres knew that this time it would mean at least a month of detention. "Sagres..." Snape's tone held a hint of schadenfreude. "I have to admit, you're very bold." He looked at Sagres as if seeing him for the first time. "You dare to secretly learn Fiendfyre—do you know what terrifying consequences this spell can cause once it goes out of control?" Sagres frowned and remained silent. Snape continued, "Your wand has the Trace set by Dumbledore. This time, there's no denying it. Get ready to be expelled!" Sagres spoke coldly, "Snape, why do you always target me?" "Call me Professor Snape! Do I need to teach you how to respect your Potions class professor?" A fine crack appeared in Sagres's yew wand as he gripped it in his palm. He suddenly chuckled softly at Snape not far away, a hint of annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Alright, Professor Snape. Do you want to see a real spell?" "What do you—" BoOOOom! In an instant, the power of magic tore through the night, and a dozen spell-lights of different colors exploded in the sky above the Forbidden Forest, forming a dazzling and terrifying scene. The powerful magical fluctuations even reached Hogwarts Castle. Sagres stood silently in the center of the scorched earth, holding his charred wand, the Trace deep within its core almost dissipating into smoke under the impact of the magic. "Snape, Professor..." Sagres stared coldly at Snape emerging from the Forbidden Forest, his voice full of chill. "If I had wanted to, you would have died just now." Snape pursed his lips and said nothing, but the shock in his eyes showed that he was not as composed as he appeared. Sagres's voice was low and cold, sharp and hurtful like a knife. "If I hadn't restrained myself again and again, do you think you and those pure-blood brats from your House would still be studying at Hogwarts unharmed?" Recalling his school life over the past few years, Sagres's heart churned. He realized that he really was about to leave this ancient castle—but before that, he had to speak his mind. "You and Dumbledore have no sense of fairness whatsoever. Is it just because of my bloodline?" Sagres turned to Dumbledore, who had appeared in the phoenix's firelight, his face growing even uglier. "Yes, bloodline! My esteemed Headmaster, the great Professor Dumbledore—when those noble surnames cursed my origins, when I was being hexed and slandered, why didn't you appear as quickly as you did today?" "Oh, I understand." Sagres nodded. "You're here to expel me!" "I'm afraid so, Sagres. You've violated too many school rules." Dumbledore's voice was calm and firm, a complex glint flashing in his eyes. Sagres turned to look at Snape, his eyes full of indifference. "As you wished, Severus Snape—I've finally been driven out of Hogwarts by you." Then he gave Dumbledore a long, deep look, said nothing more, and simply Apparated away. There was nothing more to say. It was just a pity he hadn't finished reading all the books in the Hogwarts Library. That was Sagres's last thought in the moment before leaving... __________ Don't forget to add this to your library~!