Chapter 393 - 394: Simping?

The atmosphere in the staff room was heavy.

The flickering torches on the stone walls stretched the shadows of those present, casting them across the ancient stone like a group of restless ghosts.

Sagres carefully rolled up the half-marked parchment assignment on "The Magical Principles of the Levitation Charm" and silently made his way towards the massive oak table.

He sat in the seat closest to the door, a peripheral spot that everyone seemed to leave empty by unspoken agreement, as though it had naturally been reserved for Samdron.

Headmaster Brian Gagarvein sat at the head of the table. His aged face appeared even more severe in the flickering firelight, while his fingers unconsciously stroked an ancient-looking bronze compass.

"Colleagues," Headmaster Gagarvein began slowly, "we can no longer continue avoiding this imminent threat."

His voice was low and firm.

"After 'purifying' three villages in the north, the Church's witch-hunting parties are now moving in our direction. At the same time, the giant tribes deep within the Forbidden Forest have ended their internal conflict. A newly risen leader has united the tribes, and they are becoming... extremely aggressive."

He surveyed the room, his gaze passing over every face. Some looked worried, some frightened, while others were merely pretending to remain calm.

"We must face a practical question. For the safety of all our students, should Hogwarts temporarily close?"

Before he had even finished speaking, a subdued murmur spread through the staff room.

"Close the school? That would simply be surrendering to the Dark Arts!"

Professor Carbok, who taught Magical Linguistics, was the first to speak.

"Hogwarts has endured centuries of turmoil and has never closed its doors because of a threat. Strengthening our defences and demonstrating our strength is the correct course of action."

"Strength?"

Professor Ural, who taught Herbology, could not help retorting, "Carbok, your arrogance will get the children killed! We're not facing one or two Dark Wizards. We're facing organised witch-hunting parties and rampaging giants! How long do you think our defensive magic can hold?"

Potions Professor Ninas Buckle joined the argument, her voice clear and cold.

"Professor Ural is being somewhat too pessimistic. We are perfectly capable of constructing a powerful barrier around the perimeter of the castle, one that no Muggle could ever breach. The real question is whether we are willing to pay the necessary price."

As she spoke, her gaze subtly swept over the few professors present whose blood was not considered quite so "pure", as though weighing their worth.

The debate quickly intensified between the two factions, with both sides refusing to yield and neither able to persuade the other.

The neutral professors remained silent, their brows tightly furrowed.

When the argument finally reached a stalemate, Headmaster Gagarvein began asking the other professors around the long table for their opinions one by one.

At last, his gaze fell on the far end of the table, perhaps seeking some balance, or perhaps simply out of courtesy.

"Elit, what do you think? You've always been meticulous."

At once, every eye turned towards Sagres.

He could clearly read the meaning behind those gazes.

The pure-bloods, such as Carbok and Ninas, showed undisguised disdain, as though asking what profound insight someone like him could possibly offer.

The half-blood professors, including Martha Kelly, showed a trace of sympathy and helplessness, but mostly indifference, as though the matter had little to do with them.

Sagres took a deep breath.

He knew that the real Samdron would probably be stammering nervously by now, but Sagres simply could not imitate that part properly. Every time he tried to stammer deliberately, he felt an urge to laugh.

In the end, he leaned forward slightly and spoke in Samdron's somewhat hesitant and humble tone.

"Headmaster, Professors... I, I believe closing the school should be our last option, certainly not our first."

He paused, as though organising his thoughts.

"Hogwarts is more than just a castle. It is a sanctuary and a source of hope for young wizards. If the school closes, the students will be scattered, which may leave them even more vulnerable. Perhaps we could... activate some of the ancient defensive magic and, at the same time, organise the older students and all available professors to establish several layers of defence..."

Before he could finish, a cold laugh interrupted him.

"What a 'moving' academic proposal."

Professor Carbok lowered his monocle, a mocking sneer twisting his lips.

"Samdron, are you suggesting that we hide underground like goblins and lock the children in with us? Those 'defensive spells' you've dug out of dusty old parchments are probably even less reliable than your own spellcasting."

Ninas Buckle immediately joined in, her voice smooth and cold.

"Elit, I understand your... affection for the school. But the reality is that what we need is powerful magic, enough strength to deter our enemies, not empty words."

She ultimately refrained from using the word "cowardice", but the implication was obvious.

Even Gravitz, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, folded his arms and lazily added, "When you can block one of my attacks with Protego, then we can talk about setting up 'multiple layers of defence'."

A few suppressed snickers echoed through the staff room, like venomous snakes flicking their tongues.

A strong sense of absurdity rose in Sagres's heart.

Were these people out of their minds?

His suggestion clearly aligned with their own position, yet he was being attacked for no reason simply because the words had come from "Samdron".

It was completely incomprehensible.

Not a single person in the entire room spoke up for him.

And Sagres, imitating the real Samdron, silently lowered his head under the barrage of ridicule and rubbed his fingers together as though trying to make himself disappear.

He said nothing more and simply listened as the others continued arguing, his heart cold.

In this rigidly hierarchical era, without a prestigious bloodline or overwhelming strength to support you, even the most reasonable suggestion sounded like the delusions of an incompetent fool to these arrogant people.

Headmaster Gagarvein watched the scene, a trace of disappointment flashing in his eyes, but in the end he merely tapped the table lightly and brought the discussion back to the main issue.

"Since most of the professors believe we should hold our ground, then we will prepare our defences. Professor Carbok, you will be responsible for reinforcing the protective enchantments around the castle. Professor Buckle, I leave the potion reserves in your hands. Gravitz..."

As one instruction after another was issued, the meeting ultimately decided not to close the school and instead to comprehensively strengthen its defences.

The professors rose and left one after another.

Not one of them spared a glance for Sagres, who had moved back into the corner, as though he did not exist at all.

Late that night, Sagres sat alone in his office and finally opened the diary he had previously dismissed as worthless and never bothered reading carefully.

Page after page, the dense handwriting recorded years of Samdron's frustrations.

"Today I finally passed Headmaster Gagarvein's interview and became the Charms professor at Hogwarts. This is wonderful. I'm sure I'll be able to find Tina again..."

"Today Ninas corrected my pronunciation in front of the class again. The students were all secretly laughing, but it seems I really wasn't teaching it correctly..."

"Carbok 'accidentally' lost my lesson plan..."

"Why is it that no matter how hard I try, they still refuse to see it..."

Sagres could not help shaking his head and sighing.

In this rigidly hierarchical era, it was nearly impossible for a half-blood wizard with neither exceptional talent nor a powerful background to earn recognition.

He gently closed the diary, an indescribable irritation welling up inside him.

This was simply too pathetic.

Even more unbelievable was that, between the lines, he had actually discovered the timid professor's hidden affection for the Potions professor who constantly humiliated him.

Ninas Buckle.

No way, man.

She treated you like that, and you still kept blindly fawning over her?

Was it really just because Ninas had shiny blonde hair and was pretty?

Tsk.

So he was not only a simp, but a looks-obsessed simp as well.

Sagres tossed the diary onto the table and rubbed his aching temples.

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