Deputy Headmistress's Office.
A heavy atmosphere hung over Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They had just been sternly summoned by Professor McGonagall.
When the three of them entered and saw that, besides Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape was also present—his face as grim as the bottom of a cauldron—and behind him stood Pansy Parkinson, eyes bloodshot, looking haggard and resentful—their hearts sank.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."
Professor McGonagall's voice carried its usual sternness, but if one listened closely, there was a faint trace of concern.
"Miss Parkinson has made serious accusations to her Head of House, Professor Snape. She claims that for the past three days, she has been tormented by some kind of… dark curse, entirely unable to sleep. She suspects it is related to an encounter with the three of you in the corridor three days ago."
Her sharp gaze swept over them. "She accuses Miss Granger of casting an illegal spell on her."
Snape's mouth was drawn in a hard line, his dark, unfathomable eyes fixed on Hermione. "Miss Parkinson has described her experience in detail—constant, irresistible wakefulness, on the verge of mental collapse. These symptoms… are quite unusual. Miss Granger, do you have anything to say? Potter? Weasley? Are either of you aware of this?"
Pansy stood behind Snape, trying to straighten her posture, but the heavy dark circles under her eyes and her faintly trembling frame betrayed her weakness.
She glared at Hermione with hatred, her lips moving silently.
Hermione took a deep breath, about to respond, when the heavy oak door of the office gently opened.
Tap! Tap! Tap..
Sagres walked in.
He maintained his usual calm and composed demeanor, his dark gray robes immaculate.
It seemed as though he had merely been passing by. His gaze swept over the room, finally resting on Snape and Pansy, with his brow furrowing ever so slightly.
"Good morning, everyone," Sagres said evenly, breaking the tense silence. "It seems an inquiry is in progress?"
He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes passing over each of the young witches and wizards, pausing for a moment on Pansy.
A flicker of irritation crossed Snape's expression. "This is a matter between Slytherin and Gryffindor students. It does not concern you, Professor Greengrass."
"Ohhh...?"
Sagres dragged the syllable out, then looked directly at the haggard Pansy. "But Miss Parkinson's condition does seem quite troubling."
His tone, however, carried not a trace of sympathy.
"Then, Professor McGonagall," he said, turning toward the Deputy Headmistress, "what exactly are the accusations? That Miss Granger cast a dark curse? Where? When? What evidence is there?"
Snape gave a cold snort. "Miss Parkinson's testimony is the evidence!"
"I beg to differ, Professor Snape," Sagres replied calmly. "A one-sided account cannot be considered valid testimony—especially since I, myself, have suffered because of such treatment during my school years."
Pansy's face turned even paler, and she looked to Snape as if seeking protection.
Snape's expression darkened further. "Sagres, are you questioning my judgment?"
"Of course.... not. I am simply upholding fairness and the integrity of the evidentiary process, Professor Snape," Sagres said evenly, his gaze passing over the young witches and wizards present. "Punishing a student solely based on another's claim, without conclusive evidence, is not only unjust—it sets a precedent for baseless accusations."
Professor McGonagall's tense features eased slightly. She cleared her throat and said, "Sagres is right. Accusations must be supported by evidence, Severus."
Snape, his expression thunderous, reached into his robes and pulled out a small brown vial. "Since you want evidence, then let Granger take the test!"
A grim smile curled on his lips. "Veritaserum. Just three drops, and the truth will be laid bare."
"I absolutely forbid it!" McGonagall said sharply. "I will not allow you to use Veritaserum on a student, Severus."
Sagres glanced briefly at Hermione, then at Pansy, as if something had occurred to him. A faint, cold smile appeared on his lips.
"Since both parties insist on their version of events, and the memory of the moment is critical," he said slowly, "I propose a method to resolve this matter immediately."
He turned to Pansy, his gaze sharp. "Miss Parkinson, if you truly wish to see justice done—and if you want to clear your name and confirm Miss Granger's guilt—are you willing to undergo Memory Screening? I can extract the memory fragment concerning that corridor encounter and project it here. Then, the truth will be clear to all."
"No!"
Pansy nearly screamed, recoiling abruptly, her face filled with panic. "No! Absolutely not!"
Her reaction was so extreme that even Snape frowned, glancing at her with a trace of suspicion.
Professor McGonagall's expression also sharpened noticeably.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, barely holding back their laughter—they knew exactly what Pansy was afraid of: being exposed for shouting "Mudblood" in the memory.
Sagres nodded slightly, as if her refusal was precisely what he had anticipated. "It seems Miss Parkinson has some hesitation about the 'truth.' Or perhaps she simply doesn't want certain aspects of her behavior during the encounter to be made public?"
His voice remained calm, though a faint trace of ridicule laced his words.
Snape's cheek twitched. He glared at Sagres, his eyes brimming with unfiltered anger and contempt. "You're protecting her!"
"Am I?" Sagres replied coolly. "Aren't you?"
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
The invisible threads of Legilimency had already sifted through Pansy Parkinson's surface thoughts—Sagres knew exactly what she had done.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall finally spoke, her tone regaining its commanding edge. "Sagres is right. Without clear, conclusive evidence, we cannot punish a student based solely on an accusation."
"What about Pansy's insomnia?" Snape growled, glaring fiercely at her—he likely understood what was going on now.
"That question should be directed to Madam Pomfrey," Professor McGonagall replied stiffly, pursing her lips.
"Or perhaps you could brew her a Draught of Living Death?" Sagres added. "Of course, a Stupefy would also work."
Pansy's face turned ashen.
Sagres had no sympathy for people who ganged up on others but lacked the nerve to follow through. It reminded him of former classmates for whom he had once provided free treatment.
Snape's face darkened further. He cast a seething glare at Sagres. "Let's go."
Pansy stared at him in disbelief, then turned to McGonagall, and finally cast a resentful glance at the three students, her eyes settling on Sagres's impassive face.
"Something on my face, Miss Parkinson?"
"N-No, sir.."
Despair, anger, and exhaustion nearly made her collapse, but in the end, she could only grit her teeth and follow Snape out.
"Very well. This matter is concluded," Professor McGonagall announced. "Potter, Weasley, Granger—you may leave. But I expect you to remain vigilant and avoid further conflict."
Her final words carried a note of warning.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as if granted a reprieve, quickly nodded. But before they could leave, the office door opened once more.
Neville entered, accompanied by his grandmother—Augusta Longbottom.
She was a rather formidable-looking old witch, dressed in a green robe with a stuffed vulture perched on her pointed hat. Tall and imposing, she exuded an air of authority.
"Madam Longbottom, Neville," Professor McGonagall greeted with a nod, "please come in."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione beamed when they saw Neville. "Neville, we all read the newspaper. How are your parents now?"
"Are these your friends, Neville?" his grandmother asked kindly.
Neville, a little embarrassed, lowered his head.
~~~~~~~
o(*≧▽≦)ツ💫 Read up to 12+ chapters in advance on P@treon/DarkDevil1