At breakfast, Dumbledore looked at the whispering students, who occasionally glanced at him, and couldn't help peering over his half-moon spectacles at Sagres, seated at the end of the teachers' table.
In a gentle tone, he said, "My dear Sagres, I must say, you have successfully injected a… rather unprecedented vitality into Hogwarts."
Sagres, who was slowly cutting a piece of steak, merely lifted his eyes at this.
"You also challenged the instance?" he asked calmly.
Dumbledore nodded. "Last night, in the dead of night, I recruited four temporary teammates…"
"And the outcome?" Sagres asked without looking up.
"Ah, I must say, it was quite an eye-opener." The old Headmaster smiled. "If not for you, I would likely never have witnessed Minerva betraying me in my lifetime."
Dumbledore picked up a sweet, examined it, then placed it in his mouth. "Even now, when I eat, I can't help but check whether it might suddenly turn into a… well… a 'lesson.'"
"This indicates that the teaching is effective, Headmaster," Sagres replied indifferently. "Constant vigilance is the first step to survival, whether it concerns sweets or… people."
The old man raised an eyebrow. "I suspect you and Alastor Moody would get along very well."
Sagres looked up. "Mad-Eye Moody?"
Then he shook his head slightly. "I appreciate his practical mindset, but his methods lack systematic structure and rely too heavily on personal experience and intuition."
His tone was flat, as though he were commenting on the seasoning of a dish.
Minerva McGonagall finally spoke, her voice carrying a trace of stiffness. "Albus, I must clarify that what you encountered was merely a magical construct. Its behavioural logic is based on… on an extreme interpretation of 'practical teaching.'"
She seemed intent on defending her "other self." "I would never treat a colleague in such a manner, and I hope you understand that."
Dumbledore blinked innocently, his tone light. "Oh, I know that, Minerva. I must say, that mirror's Transfiguration was exquisite. She turned the floor beneath my feet into a pool of constantly shifting, viscous treacle, attempting to restrict my movement. Very creative."
He seemed to savour the memory.
"Professor Dumbledore, you encountered Professor McGonagall's projection?"
Professor Flitwick, who had just arrived, interjected excitedly. "What tactical choices did it make? Was it pre-emptive control or reactive counterattack? I added several stylistic variations to my mirror, just waiting for a student to force it to use them!"
"Then I'm afraid you may be disappointed, Filius," Dumbledore said with a smile. "At least for now, students capable of threatening a professor's mirror likely do not exist."
"It won't be long," Professor Flitwick said with confidence. "The students' progress is quite evident. At this rate, it may not be long before a team defeats a 'rebellious' professor."
It was a rare joke from Professor Flitwick.
"I must remind you, Filius, this is not some amusing academic experiment," Professor Sprout said in warning. "The children now enter the greenhouse as if it were a minefield. Even the gentlest dittany startles them."
She sighed. "Yesterday, a student even tried to use Incendio on a harmless Mimbulus Mimbletonia, just because its colour 'looked a bit like' the biting cabbages my projection used."
Sagres finally finished the steak on his plate.
He set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and looked calmly at everyone. "This is an inevitable growing pain that comes with the learning process, Professor Sprout. It is better for them to be cautious in the greenhouse now than to die in the wild later due to misjudgment."
The breakfast conversation ended in a subtle, uneasy atmosphere.
The professors rose one after another and left the Great Hall, each lost in their own thoughts. Sagres also stood and walked out.
By the marble staircase in the entrance hall, Remus Lupin seemed to have been waiting for him for some time.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's eyes were tired yet earnest, his voice slightly hoarse. "Professor Greengrass, may I have a moment of your time?"
Sagres stopped and looked at him calmly with his grey eyes.
"Is something the matter, Professor Lupin?"
"It's about… next Friday." Lupin seemed a little uneasy. "I'm afraid I won't be able to teach that day. Normally, I would ask Professor Snape to cover for me, but…"
He gave a wry smile. "You know that isn't the best option. I thought of the projections you created that can teach independently, so I was wondering… if I could ask for your help to take my students into the arena that day, and create a simple teaching instance to replace the regular lesson, so their learning isn't interrupted."
Sagres did not reply immediately. He simply watched Lupin in silence, his gaze seeming to pierce through the calm façade Lupin maintained, seeing the pain accumulated from his monthly suffering.
After a moment of silence, Sagres spoke, his tone still flat. "Perhaps we could try to resolve that… more fundamental trouble within you?"
Lupin froze abruptly, his pupils contracting, as if he hadn't understood—or perhaps couldn't believe—what he had heard.
"W-what? I don't understand what you mean…"
"I mean, I may be able to cast a spell that forcibly 'reshapes' your form and permanently locks it into a human state."
Sagres's tone was steady, as if stating a simple fact. "After all, Wolfsbane Potion can only preserve your rationality during transformation. It cannot suppress the transformation itself, nor can it ease the pain of the process."
The colour drained from Lupin's face instantly. He instinctively took half a step back, leaning against the cold stone wall, his breathing growing rapid.
"Th-this… how is that possible?"
He murmured, then looked up again, his eyes filled with hope. "What's the cost? There must be a cost, right?"
"Of course."
Sagres nodded without hesitation. "Once the magic takes effect, you will no longer be able to use any form of human Transfiguration. And…"
His grey eyes met Lupin's calmly. "Your appearance will be permanently fixed at the moment the spell is completed. It will not change by even the slightest degree for the rest of your life."
"This… is also a cost?" Lupin's voice was barely above a whisper.
The news was too overwhelming, almost overturning his decades-long understanding of his own fate.
Hope and shock clashed in his eyes, making his voice tremble uncontrollably.
After steadying himself slightly, he spoke again. "I've never heard of such magic existing… this is completely unheard of…"
"Cursed Transfiguration," Sagres explained, his tone still even. "Or you could call it Permanent Transfiguration."
He spread his palm, and a Galleon in his hand continuously shifted its form.
"It is my own magic. You may think of it as imposing a powerful and stable 'form mould' upon you, one that overlays and fixes your shape at the moment of transformation. You will no longer endure the intense pain caused by magical impact and skeletal restructuring, and your outward form will remain permanently human. Of course—"
He added, "maintaining clear rationality still requires Wolfsbane Potion, as this magic only affects the physical form and cannot calm the raging beast within."
Lupin stood completely stunned, staring at Sagres as if seeing him for the first time.
He had spent his entire life struggling against the monster within him, only in the past two years gaining a semblance of dignity through costly potions. He had never imagined that someone would use such a… direct, almost ruthless method to confine the beast in his flesh once more.
Remus Lupin took several deep breaths, trying to steady himself, but his voice still wavered. "W-why? Why would you choose to help me?"
Sagres's gaze swept over the few students scattered in the entrance hall, his voice calm. "For the stability of teaching quality. A professor who is inevitably absent once a month disrupts the continuity of the curriculum. Resolving your problem will fundamentally improve teaching quality. Besides…"
He paused, his tone subtly shifting. "You are a rather capable professor. I have heard the students' opinions of you. Your abilities should not be constrained by a monthly weakness."
He glanced out the window, then returned his gaze to Lupin. "You don't need to answer immediately. Think it over and come to me before the next full moon. Be warned—the process may involve some pain."
Sagres finished speaking, gave a slight nod, said nothing further, then turned and walked away.
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