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Aside from Sagres, Harry and his two friends were still secretly investigating the truth about the Chamber of Secrets.

"Are we really not going to tell a professor?" Hermione bit her lip, her fingers unconsciously stroking the spine of Hogwarts: A History. "Harry can hear things no one else can… that's very dangerous."

"There's no point telling them—they'll just think I'm making things up again!" Harry said, tugging at his hair in frustration. "And what if they really think I'm the one behind it? I'd definitely be expelled from Hogwarts."

"But I think we could try telling Professor Greengrass," Hermione said, still looking worried. "Maybe he knows what's going on…"

"I already asked him last time—very subtly—and he said it might be ghosts or Peeves."

"How did you ask?" Hermione looked a bit curious.

"I said I had a friend who sometimes heard strange noises in the Castle…"

"And then?"

"There was no 'then,' that's all I said."

Hermione sighed, a little exasperated.

"Anyway, Harry's not the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets," Ron muttered, stuffing a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "And Malfoy is definitely suspicious! He's been way too quiet lately."

Indeed, Draco Malfoy had noticeably reined himself in recently.

Ever since he'd been docked points and given detention by Sagres on the Quidditch Pitch, Malfoy had stopped saying "Mudblood" so casually—though he still held his chin high and occasionally looked down his nose at Harry and his friends whenever they crossed paths.

But he hadn't made any sarcastic remarks or tried to cause trouble. It was a noticeable shift from the Malfoy they were used to, and all three of them suspected he was plotting something.

...

As the new Quidditch season approached, the Castle's atmosphere finally grew lively again.

Excited chatter echoed through the corridors, and the Gryffindor team members were eager for the match. Although Slytherin's seven Nimbus 2001s made them feel somewhat at a disadvantage, it didn't dampen their spirits.

"First match of the year, Slytherin versus Gryffindor!" Wood was still giving a rousing pep talk before the game. "We're going to show them what we're made of—prove that having the best broomsticks doesn't mean they've already won!"

However, not everyone was caught up in the excitement of the upcoming match.

Professor McGonagall stood in the corridor with her lips pressed into a thin line.

Although she still held some resentment toward Sagres for suspecting Harry during the Halloween incident, she had nonetheless extended a polite invitation to him, as Deputy Headmistress, to attend the match.

But Sagres declined—because Snowy Owl had sent word that all the necessary materials had been gathered.

He decided to use these two days of free time to complete the construction of the "Mana Siphon" alchemy array, and fully master this forbidden magic that could absorb another's magic.

With all the materials in hand, Sagres went straight to the safe house deep within the Forbidden Forest.

...

Woosh~!

The oddly shaped building shimmered with a pale sheen in the sunlight, like the forgotten skull of a giant beast. As Sagres stepped over the moss-covered threshold, he casually cast three spells:

The Anti-Apparition Charm lit up the outer walls like a spiderweb, the Space Anchoring Charm solidified the air inside into a thick gel, and the Powerful Banishing Charm drove all nearby creatures away by instinct.

This became an absolutely sealed private magical domain.

Engraving the alchemy array would be a long process; at his speed, it would take at least a full day and night of uninterrupted work.

But first, he had to prepare the materials.

Acromantula venom, moonstone powder, bleeding vine sap, Merperson scales, Matagot whiskers, Murtlap nails, North American Mountain Dragon tartar... ... ...

Sagres combined the ingredients one by one according to the instructions on the parchment manuscript.

When the final component was added, he stared at the constantly writhing blue liquid in the cup, a trace of hesitation flashing in his eyes.

In the end, he cast a "Mechanical Mind" charm on himself.

Then he drank two drops of Felix Felicis—though Sagres had always considered luck potions to be mostly psychological, he would never pass up even the slightest advantage at a critical moment.

He removed his Wizard robes, exposing his pale skin to the chilling air.

According to his calculations, the optimal position for the alchemy array was his chest, but the starting point had to be his dominant hand—meaning the entire runic system would extend from his right hand to his heart, allowing magic and flesh to merge completely.

When the tip of the wand touched his skin, Sagres shivered.

It wasn't fear—it was exhilaration.

As his wrist moved, the wand carved a bloody path across his flesh.

His movements were practiced, and the lines drawn by the wand were terrifyingly precise:

He began by cutting into the pad of his right index finger, splitting the etching into five branches that followed the direction of his bones.

The lines converged at the wrist into a thorn-shaped circular clasp, then spiraled upward along his bicep, coiling like a vine toward his heart on the left side of his chest.

Wherever the wand passed, his skin curled slightly, revealing pearlescent muscle underneath—yet no blood flowed.

The carvings seemed to have been seared into place, the wounds shimmering with a glassy luster.

Dup!

When the final circuit met at the sternum, the entire array suddenly began to pulse—rising and falling as though breathing.

Sizzle~~!

Without hesitation, Sagres plunged his right hand into the alchemical solution.

Immediately, the deep blue liquid came alive.

It emitted sticky sounds, eerily like an infant's cry, and surged into the etchings. Wherever it touched, a brilliant blue light burst beneath his skin, illuminating his bones as if they were made of crystal.

!!!

Excruciating pain struck without warning.

Unlike the soul-ripping agony of the Cruciatus Curse, this was a raw, physical torment—like someone dragging a red-hot iron comb through his nerves again and again.

But Sagres didn't even flinch.

"Fuu~~"

Hours passed slowly as the alchemy array gradually took shape.

Eerie blue lines shimmered beneath his skin like glowing blood vessels, pulsing with an otherworldly light.

Next came the engraving of the alchemical runes—another long, grueling process.

The manuscript hovered in mid-air, flipping to the next page on its own, revealing densely packed ancient runes. Each symbol twisted and writhed as if alive, whispering faintly in an unknown tongue.

Every time Sagres engraved a rune, blue etchings rose from beneath his skin.

Over two thousand runes meant more than two thousand instances of skin being torn open and restored again.

Sagres didn't know who had written this cursed manuscript, but he'd silently cursed them at least a hundred times by now.

…

The morning sun spilled golden light over the ancient towers of Hogwarts, bathing the castle in a warm, peaceful glow.

Groups of students wandered in twos and threes across the lawn, their cheerful voices echoing in the crisp morning air.

Even the usually solitary Ravenclaw first-years—Luna Lovegood, wearing her ever-curious, peculiar glasses, and the soft-spoken Astoria Greengrass—had joined the crowd today, all heading toward the Quidditch Pitch.

Luna's eyes sparkled with fascination, while Astoria held tightly onto her friend's sleeve, afraid of getting separated in the bustling excitement.