Chapter 77 - 77: 77: Sagres's Suspicions

o(*≧▽≦)ツ????Support & read up to 12+ chapters ahead on P@treon/DarkDevil1???? Join to get early access and exclusive content!✨ ________ "Yes, that is why I don't think the killer is just a wizard!" He suddenly turned around at this point. "Let me state this clearly: I personally believe that Salazar Slytherin would not have left a pure killing machine in the Castle." Sagres's voice was calm and serious. "The so-called Chamber of Secrets may have simply been his private laboratory, and there might be some ancient creature inside…" As he spoke, he lightly waved his wand, and two shimmering images appeared in the air—one of a gorgon, and the other of a basilisk. He swept his gaze across everyone and continued slowly, "Therefore, the person who left the message on the wall not only knows the location of the Chamber of Secrets but can even control the creature inside…" Professor McGonagall clutched her shawl tightly. "You mean, someone in the Castle deliberately—" "Or worse," Sagres put away his wand, "someone might have opened the Chamber of Secrets under manipulation or coercion. Don't forget, Lord Voldemort escaped, and no one knows if he's possessing the back of a student's head again, controlling their every move." "Oh my! That's far too sensational, Sagres," Professor McGonagall said, covering her mouth. "But it's very possible," Sagres replied calmly. "After all, this extreme pure-blood ideology brings only one person to mind—Voldemort and his followers." "What are you talking about?" Lockhart finally realized something was wrong. "You-Know-Who isn't already… already… Aha, I know, you're joking, right?" Sagres glanced at Lockhart and silently mourned for the Hogwarts students. After all, they wouldn't be learning anything useful in Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. At that moment, he recalled how Harry and his two companions clearly knew something—and how Harry had asked him a strange question after class before—so he couldn't help but remind them, "Headmaster, Potter and his friends do seem to know something. Perhaps we should encourage them to speak honestly… or take some special measures." At this point, he looked around at everyone seriously. "After all, no one can guarantee that the next victim will still be just a cat." Silence fell over the office, and the Professors exchanged glances. Professor McGonagall's lips pressed into a tight line. "Sagres, are you suggesting we use Legilimency or perform a memory screening on the students?" "It would be even better if they were willing to speak the truth themselves," Sagres said firmly. "Ha! Leave it to me!" Lockhart suddenly stood up, startling even the portraits on the wall this time. "To be honest, I'm not only an expert in the Dark Arts, I'm also a master of memory magic!" "Gilderoy," the Headmaster interrupted calmly but firmly, "the safety of the Castle is our top priority. Let's begin with a thorough inspection. If there really is a Chamber of Secrets and a monster inside capable of petrifying people, then our most urgent task is to deal with that first." Sagres said nothing, though inwardly, he found himself uncharacteristically aligned with Snape—he too wanted to see what Harry and his friends were hiding. It might be the key to uncovering the Chamber of Secrets. However, judging by the attitudes of the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress, neither of them seemed willing to pursue that course. In that case, he would have to uncover the truth through his own means. … That night, when Sagres returned to the scene of the incident, Filch was still there. The caretaker stood hunched over, bloodshot eyes fixed on the corridor wall, as though he could burn a hole through it with his gaze. The puddles on the floor had long been cleaned up, but the ominous message on the wall remained clearly visible. "I tried… it won't wash off." Filch's voice was hoarse, and there were still traces of clawing on the wall beneath his fingernails. Sagres nodded slightly. The writing wasn't ordinary paint but some kind of magical imprint—no wonder Filch had been powerless to remove it. He leaned closer to the message, his fingertips hovering above the rough stone, trying to sense any magical residue from the caster. But he quickly gave up; he wasn't a handwriting expert and couldn't identify the perpetrator through mundane methods. With a wave of his wand, the writing on the wall slowly faded. Sagres scanned the area, his gaze finally settling on the entrance to the girls' lavatory nearby. This was Moaning Myrtle's domain, and perhaps the perpetually sobbing ghost might have seen something. With that thought, he walked directly into the rarely visited lavatory. "Hello, Myrtle," Sagres greeted the seemingly empty room. A toilet lid clattered open, and a ghostly head rose from within, confusion evident behind her thick glasses. "Who's there?" she asked, clearly disoriented. But her expression quickly shifted to surprise. "Are you a Professor? Why are you here? This is the girls' lavatory…" Sagres ignored the question, maintaining a calm expression. "Myrtle, did you see anything when the attack happened?" Myrtle's lips quivered. "No, I was crying at the time…" she whimpered. "Peeves bullied me. He threw a moldy cake at my head and kicked me out of the Deathday Party." With that, she burst into tears again. Sagres stood silently, watching her cry without interruption—until, surprisingly, Myrtle gradually quieted down on her own. "Do you have any other questions?" she asked, tilting her head. "No," Sagres shook his head. "But if anything strange happens, I hope you'll let me know." "Strange things.. huh?" Myrtle suddenly leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Actually, something strange did happen…" Sagres raised an eyebrow, not expecting such an unexpected lead. "I'll tell you—but only if you promise to help me get back at Peeves!" "No problem." Myrtle suddenly giggled. "Normally, no one comes here, so there used to be lots of spiders. I even gave them names. But recently, they've all disappeared." Sagres narrowed his eyes and nodded thoughtfully. In the days that followed, the Professors practically turned the Castle upside down—every brick in the dungeons was tapped, every portrait in the corridors questioned, and even the hollow inside the Whomping Willow was examined. But the so-called Chamber of Secrets remained completely untraceable, and there was no sign of the monster either. Gradually, the students' tension began to fade. After all, the only victim so far had been Filch's ill-tempered cat—and she was currently lying in the Hospital Wing under Madam Pomfrey's care. Who would stay terrified for long over Mrs. Norris, who hated being petted in the first place? Laughter once again echoed through the Great Hall, and the soft rustling of quills returned to the Hogwarts Library. Only Sagres continued his search, pacing quietly through the shadowed corners of the Castle. He kept questioning whether Lord Voldemort had returned to Hogwarts, whether he had released the monster from the Chamber of Secrets, and what kind of monster it could be. Over and over, he replayed the illusions he had conjured with his Magic wand that night—the petrifying gaze of a gorgon, the deadly fangs of a basilisk. These long-extinct creatures could certainly cause similar effects. But even if Salazar Slytherin had truly kept such beasts hidden in the Castle a thousand years ago, who could possibly control them now? And Myrtle had said the spiders had vanished. What did that imply? Did the monster feed on spiders? Yet neither gorgons nor basilisks were known to prey on spiders. Or perhaps his line of reasoning was flawed from the beginning. Could the killer be something else entirely…?