The number of people on the dueling platform was rapidly decreasing.
Defeated students were gently lifted by soft white light and carried to a safe area at the edge of the platform.
Sagres's gaze swept over those who had been knocked down, restrained, or disarmed, his expression utterly unmoved.
Elimination was inevitable.
Yet some students remained clear-headed amid the chaos, attempting to seize control of the situation.
They were the true standouts of the free-for-all. The amount of tentative probing between them diminished, and every move now carried clearer intent and greater force.
As a result, the density of spells did not lessen. Every cast and every evasive maneuver pulled tightly at the nerves of all onlookers.
Explosions from colliding spells continued without pause, and the platform became a blur of light and shadow, like a perilous display of fireworks.
In everyone's eyes, there was only their opponent and the tip of their wand. Points, rankings, the tournament, the exchange catalogue—those distant goals had all been stripped away, reduced to the most primal instinct of survival: to be the last one standing.
At the edge of the platform,
the first-years huddled together, their small faces pale and their eyes wide with shock.
They were witnessing the most impactful lesson since the term had begun a few days earlier—not floating feathers or colour-changing potions, but real wizard duels.
The shriek of spells and the roar of collisions echoed above the platform. High in the stands, several figures quietly emerged from the ivy-wreathed shadows, their robes whipping in the howling wind.
Snape stood like a bat pinned to a specimen board, his dark eyes fixed on the melee below, a look of disdain etched across his face.
"What a… novel teaching method, wouldn't you agree, Professor Lupin?" Snape's voice slithered like a slick, venomous snake, heavy with undisguised sarcasm. "Perhaps some people believe that tossing a group of trolls into a gladiatorial pit and letting them fling dung at one another also counts as a wizarding duel?"
His sharp gaze swept over Harry and Ron's scrambling figures, a barely perceptible sneer tugging at his lips.
But when his eyes landed on Malfoy's agile movements, a satisfied smile briefly appeared.
Lupin's gaze, by contrast, was filled with keen interest, lingering more on the suspended dueling platform itself and the students' ability to adapt.
"Practical experience is often far more memorable than theory, Severus," Lupin replied mildly, his eyes following Cho Chang's nimble movements and Cedric's steady defence. "Of course, all of this is built upon the ingenuity of this platform…"
He looked back at Snape, his tone still gentle. "I hear you had a hand in its creation as well?"
"I do not deny it," Snape said without turning his head, his voice devoid of pride. "It is merely a pity that the protective enchantments here cannot be extended to the entire castle."
He paused, his gaze suddenly sharp as it pierced Lupin. "After all, there are times when I question whether such protection is truly sufficient. Especially on certain full-moon nights, when some… fanged problems… tend to lose control."
He deliberately drew out the words "fanged problems," soft and slow, the insinuation unmistakable.
The gentleness on Lupin's face froze instantly. His fingers tightened subtly beneath his robes, yet his voice still fought to remain composed. "I believe Hogwarts's defences are more than adequate, Severus. The Wolfsbane Potion is also quite reliable. Besides, the students are facing a more immediate threat at present."
"Oh? A more immediate threat?"
Snape gave a very soft scoff and turned slightly toward Lupin, his black eyes glinting with undisguised malice. "You mean Azkaban's guards? Those Dementors circling our walls like vultures? Of course, their presence is deeply unsettling, like rotting vermin in a gutter… but whose fault is that?"
Lupin opened his mouth, then fell silent.
Snape stepped half a pace closer, his voice dropping even lower. "Sirius Black. Your old friend. Now he prowls outside like a restless ghost, intent on breaking in here to finish the 'work' he failed to complete thirteen years ago—killing Harry Potter."
His gaze locked onto Lupin's pallid face, missing none of the subtle shifts in expression. "The Dementors are blockading the castle precisely to stop him. To stop the friend who was once so close to you. How ironic, is it not? Even more ironic is that Dumbledore allows yet another potential threat to stand here so brazenly."
Lupin's body stiffened visibly, his gentle façade shattering completely, leaving only wounded anger and deep-seated pain.
He drew in a sharp breath, his chest rising and falling. "Severus, your accusations are unfounded. Sirius Black's crimes are unforgivable, and I despise his betrayal as much as anyone. But I would never—"
"Despise?" Snape cut in, his voice suddenly sharp. "And how many Galleons is that hatred worth?"
His words were laden with undisguised suspicion. "When he is cornered, will you choose to let him go out of 'old friendship'? Or when he tries to sneak into the castle, will you turn a blind eye out of 'pity'?"
Lupin's expression dimmed with sorrow, his voice dropping. "If you understood my situation, you would not say such things, Severus."
"Understand? Hmph. Of course I wouldn't understand." Snape snorted, making no attempt to relent. "After all, who could better understand the plight of a fugitive than someone who also has to hide? Especially when that fugitive was once one of your closest friends?"
He stressed the word "friend" again, his cold gaze sweeping over Lupin, searching for even the faintest sign of wavering.
"Let me tell you the truth. Dumbledore may trust you, but I never will. Because no one knows better than I do just how close you once were."
"Enough!"
Lupin's voice finally lost its customary gentleness, carrying a suppressed growl. Sadness and anger flashed through his eyes, but beneath it all lay the pain of old wounds being relentlessly reopened.
He looked straight at Snape, his gaze complex and unreadable, filled with wounded fury, deep grief for James and Lily, and a cold appraisal of Snape's fixation.
"My loyalty is to Dumbledore, to Hogwarts, and to the students here," Lupin said, each word deliberate. "I will never betray any of them. If Sirius Black dares to come near this place, I will personally hand him over to the Dementors. Your conjectures born of malice and prejudice end here."
With that, Lupin turned and walked away, no longer sparing a glance for the duel below, nor for Snape.
Snape remained where he was, making no move to stop him, merely staring in the direction Lupin had gone with his deep black eyes.
The sneer on his lips deepened, like a scar that had long since set.
On the dueling platform below, a seventh-year student finished off his final opponent with a Stupefy, marking the emergence of a victor, yet the cheers were utterly unable to pierce the gloom hanging over the high stands.
Sagres addressed the students briefly, announcing that this unusual "lesson" had finally come to an end.
Tired but exhilarated, the students filed off the platform, their excited chatter replacing the shriek of spells.
Sagres's gaze swept across the now-empty arena before finally settling on Snape's sombre profile.
"It seems your conversation wasn't very pleasant," he said calmly as he walked over to the stands.
Snape did not reply. His eyes remained fixed on the passage where Lupin had disappeared, the sneer still lingering on his lips.
After a moment, he slowly turned his head, his black eyes meeting Sagres's assessing gaze.
"That is none of your concern," Snape replied curtly.
"Is that so?" Sagres stopped beside him and spoke indifferently. "I happened to overhear you discussing Sirius Black."
His grey eyes shifted to Snape. "Coincidentally, I recently accepted a commission from Dumbledore and have been tracking him during this time."
This finally drew a reaction. Snape raised an eyebrow, studying Sagres for a moment, uncharacteristically refraining from sarcasm. "Then allow me to share an interesting fact with you, Sagres."
His gaze lingered briefly on Sagres's face. "Our seemingly gentle and harmless Professor Lupin was once one of Black's closest friends."
Sagres's gaze remained unruffled.
"Closest friend?" he repeated, his tone carrying a hint of comprehension. "You mean Professor Lupin and Sirius Black?"
"Precisely," Snape replied decisively, as though underscoring a shameful secret.
Sagres fell briefly silent, his fingers unconsciously brushing the ivy-woven railing.
"I see," he said at last, his voice calm once more, his gaze turning toward the castle.
"Perhaps I should pay Professor Lupin a visit," he mused. "As Black's former close friend, he may be able to provide some… unique insights."
The sneer on Snape's lips deepened. "A wise decision. I hope you manage to pry something of value out of him."
He paused, then added pointedly, "But you would do well to be cautious. Our Professor Lupin may appear gentle, but beneath that exterior, he is a wolf in sheep's clothing."
Sagres did not respond to the final warning, merely giving a slight nod.
It was clear that the relationship between Snape and Lupin was deeply strained, with Snape repeatedly alluding to Lupin's werewolf identity, something Sagres was already well aware of.
He turned and descended the stands. Behind him, Snape added, like a snake flicking its tongue, "If you require Veritaserum, I can provide it free of charge."
Sagres paused, but did not turn around.
With his back still to Snape, he replied evenly, "Thank you. If it becomes necessary."
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