HP: Dangerous Professor from Azkaban

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"Cough, cough—!"

Ron stumbled to the ground, gasping for breath, his fingers subconsciously clawing at the now-absent vines.

Harry staggered forward and fell, his glasses askew, but he immediately turned to Hermione. "Well done!"

Hermione's hand trembled slightly. The spell within the crystal vial had dissipated, and she watched as the vines retreated into the cracks of the stone wall at an astonishing speed, leaving behind charred marks on the floor.

Sagres pouted at the sight, muttering softly, "Dumb luck."

"Luckily you paid attention in class, Hermione. You're amazing!" Harry clearly didn't think it was luck; he gave Hermione a thumbs-up, constantly wiping the sweat from his face.

"That wasn't my spell... My own Lumos spell wouldn't have that much power..." Hermione said, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"I know," Ron said, "that's the one you got from Professor Greengrass's class, right?"

"Yes," the little witch nodded, "it's really hard to stay calm in a crisis. I'm sorry, I just..."

"Hermione!" Harry interrupted her. "You just saved us."

Ron nodded repeatedly. "You've done really well, Hermione. But that spell is used up now, right? The one in your vial."

"That's right, so we have to keep going," Hermione nodded.

They passed through a dark tunnel, and suddenly a brightly lit circular chamber unfolded before them. On the towering vaulted ceiling, countless small, metallic-glowing objects flew in circles through the air, like a shower of glittering jewels.

"Wait..." Harry squinted, suddenly realizing something. "Those aren't birds... they're keys—winged keys!"

He pointed to one of the bronze keys, clearly seeing the cold glint reflecting off its teeth.

Hermione quickly scanned the room. "Looks like this is a puzzle... Ah!" She pointed to a pile of broomsticks stacked in the corner. "We need to catch the right key!"

Ron had already rushed to the elaborately carved wooden door, examining the keyhole. "We're looking for an old, big key—silver, probably shaped like this—"

He gestured the size of the key to match the door handle.

The trio quickly mounted the brooms and shot into the air. The flock of keys immediately stirred, scattering like a startled swarm of bees.

Harry skillfully weaved through the metallic storm, his Quidditch Seeker instincts quickly locking onto a target—a large silver key, with its left wing bent awkwardly, flying noticeably slower than the others.

"I see it!"

Harry dove straight toward the target. Ron and Hermione instantly understood and flanked him from both sides, helping clear a path through the flurry of keys.

The key seemed to sense danger. It suddenly veered sharply and darted upwards. Harry pulled his broom up hard, performing a sharp inversion just inches from the ceiling. His right hand shot out, grabbing the struggling key with precision.

"Well done, mate!" Ron cheered. The key flapped its wings furiously in Harry's hand until he shoved it into the keyhole and turned it. A crisp click echoed through the chamber as the door unlocked.

In the shadows, Sagres's lips curved slightly. He noticed the fresh crease on the key's wing—clearly, whoever had passed through here had done so not long ago.

Dumbledore had said this sequence of obstacles was designed to be ingenious, but Sagres had been contemplating another plan.

Perhaps letting Quirrell obtain the Philosopher's Stone wouldn't be such a bad idea... If Sagres followed the trail, he might be able to track down Lord Voldemort's hiding place.

What was that Muggle phrase? "Lure the snake out of its hole." Yes, something like that. A sting operation.

This was also why he hadn't stopped the trio so far. He didn't need to fabricate an excuse to be here, and if the Young Wizards truly faced life-threatening danger, he was more than capable of stepping in.

"Let's go!" Harry pushed open the door, and the three figures disappeared into the shadowed passage beyond.

Sagres controlled the raven to follow, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

The trio pushed open the next door—and immediately, a massive Wizard's Chessboard unfolded before them.

The black-and-white checkered floor stretched across the room, with thirty-two life-sized chess pieces lined up neatly, each towering over the three of them.

The white pieces on the opposite side were already poised, their cold, stone faces exuding a murderous aura.

Among the three, Ron was clearly the best at chess, so this time, he naturally stepped forward to take command.

"It looks like… we'll have to play ourselves," Hermione's voice trembled slightly. The trio exchanged glances and silently walked toward the vacant black positions—Harry stepped in as a Bishop, Hermione stood on the Castle, and Ron took a deep breath before moving to the fallen Knight's square.

His fingertips trembled slightly, but the moment he touched the stone chess piece, his eyes sharpened. "Listen…"

His voice was surprisingly steady. "Harry, move four squares diagonally to the front right."

The chess pieces began to shift with a heavy grinding sound. When the black Knight was struck down by a brutal blow from the white Queen, the entire room trembled. The massive stone Knight collapsed face-first onto the board, cracks spreading through its armor. Hermione gasped, and Harry felt a chill creep up his spine.

"It's… it's okay," Ron swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "This is a necessary sacrifice. Harry, now move to take the opponent's Bishop."

As the game progressed, more and more black pieces fell and piled up against the wall. Beads of sweat gathered on Ron's forehead, but his voice grew steadier, his commands sharper. Twice, he predicted the white pieces' three-move attack pattern, moving Harry and Hermione out of danger just in time.

The Raven leaned against a stone pillar hidden in the shadows, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.

The calm, analytical mindset the red-haired boy displayed at this moment was genuinely impressive—not only calculating his own moves but managing the entire battlefield as well.

This Weasley boy… perhaps, was far more interesting than he first appeared.

"Listen," Ron suddenly broke the silence, his voice unusually calm, "next… I have to be taken."

"No!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.

Ron spun around, his eyes burning with determination. "This is chess! Some pieces always have to be sacrificed." He pointed firmly at the board. "If I make this move, the Queen will take me. But at the same time, you can checkmate the white King, Harry!"

"Don't—"

"What are you hesitating for? Don't you still want to stop Snape or not?" Ron's voice suddenly rose, echoing across the empty chess chamber.

Sagres, watching through the "live broadcast," was instantly baffled when he heard this. What does this have to do with Snape? he wondered.

Is it because that big bat always targets them in class, so they subconsciously treat him as the imaginary villain?

Shaking his head, Sagres continued watching, confused but entertained.

Ron straightened his collar, standing tall like a true knight. "Just do as I say."

As Ron moved into position, the white Queen, just as he predicted, turned abruptly.

Her stone scepter swung down with a terrifying whoosh. At the last moment before the blow struck, Ron managed to give Harry a trembling smile and silently mouthed, "Checkmate him."

Then he was struck down, collapsing unconscious to the ground.

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Harry's heart nearly jumped out of his chest, but he didn't waste Ron's sacrifice.

Three moves later, the white King toppled with a loud clunk, and all the white chess pieces simultaneously lowered their weapons.

They had won.

The door to the next challenge slowly creaked open.

Harry and Hermione glanced back at Ron one last time, sadness written all over their faces, then turned and rushed through the doorway, hurrying down the corridor ahead.

"Ron, he…" Hermione choked.

"He'll be fine," Harry said firmly, as much to convince himself as her.

Ron Weasley was indeed fine—because Sagres arrived in time. With a simple charm, he healed all of the Young Wizard's injuries.

Sagres gently stroked his chin, watching with interest. This chess match was more impressive than expected—not merely a test of strategy, but a trial of courage and determination.

They did very well.