Sagres's teaching continued steadily.
That day, just as he walked out of the classroom, he received a message from Nightingale through his Bronze Feather badge:
"Signs of activity from a small Diricawl flock have been found southeast of Black River Gorges National Park in Mauritius."
A hint of surprise flashed through Sagres's eyes.
Mauritius was one of the main habitats of Diricawls, so finding traces of them there was nothing unusual.
However, why was Nightingale in Mauritius?
Without dwelling on it, he immediately replied, "Why are you in Mauritius?"
Nightingale's response came almost at once.
"At the joint invitation of the French Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Potion Association, representing Beauxbatons at the Port Louis International Potion Ingredients Expo."
Her reply was brief, followed by an additional note:
"Discovering traces of the Diricawls was purely accidental."
Sagres immediately understood.
Returning to his office, he put away his textbooks and checked his schedule. Seeing that his next class was not until the following afternoon, he realised he had ample free time.
So he decided to leave immediately.
The next moment, a sharp crack echoed through the office, and his figure vanished without a trace.
Almost simultaneously, in a secluded alleyway within the capital city of Port Louis on the island of Mauritius, the air twisted slightly.
Sagres appeared silently, like a ghost emerging from the shadows.
The warm, humid tropical breeze immediately enveloped him.
The air carried the rich fragrance of exotic flowers mixed with the distinctive salty scent of the ocean, entirely different from the cool, dry atmosphere of the Scottish Highlands.
"It's been years since I was last here..."
He murmured softly, taking a deep breath of the warm air as he lightly tapped his wand.
His wizarding robes immediately became lighter and more breathable, adapting themselves to the humid climate.
"Let's see... it should be this way."
After confirming his bearings, he turned without hesitation and headed towards a region beyond the city.
Meanwhile, in a quiet valley on the outskirts of Port Louis, concealed beneath powerful Muggle-Repelling Charms, a very different scene unfolded.
Far from the eyes of Muggles, a clear river wound through the valley. Temporary magical exhibition tents and pavilions lined both banks, while colourful magical lights and floating decorations shimmered overhead.
The International Potion Ingredients Expo was in full swing.
Inside the spacious and brightly lit exhibition hall, Nightingale stood elegantly beside a display booth, holding a glass of sparkling wine. Hidden deep within her eyes was a trace of boredom.
The hall was crowded with visitors, and countless potion ingredients were on display.
From common Moonpetal and Gillywater to rarer items such as African Sun Lizard scales and Arabian Tree Spirit resin, there was no shortage of variety.
Witches and wizards gathered around the stalls, enthusiastically examining the quality and prices of the ingredients.
However, most of these materials seemed utterly ordinary to Nightingale.
During her years living in the forests of Moldova, she had already encountered countless rare magical ingredients. These mass-produced and commonly traded materials were hardly enough to attract her interest.
Moreover, she possessed a permanent Portkey to the resting place of Old Elios, and that forgotten magical botanical sanctuary had effectively become her private collection.
As a result, unless she had absolutely no better choice, she would not spare a second glance at these repeatedly traded "commodities" whose magical essence had long since diminished.
She stood there idly, radiating an extraordinary charm that was difficult to describe. Even her faint aloofness only made her more captivating, drawing eyes towards her like a magnet.
More than one wizard gathered the courage to approach her, whether to chat, discuss Potions, or simply compliment her elegance.
Faced with these approaches, all carrying their own ulterior motives, Nightingale maintained a flawless and polite smile, responding with perfect courtesy and refined manners.
Yet there was never any warmth in those beautiful eyes. Anyone who looked closely could detect a layer of polite frost beneath the surface.
Her replies were always concise and precise, but she never took the initiative to continue a conversation.
Often, just a few words were enough to construct an invisible barrier that was impossible to cross, forcing would-be admirers to retreat in defeat.
At that moment, the air near the riverbank twisted slightly, and Sagres appeared without warning in a relatively quiet area.
He made no attempt to conceal his arrival.
After surveying the venue, he ignored the staff responsible for maintaining order and quickly located Nightingale among the crowd, preparing to walk towards her.
However, just as he took a step forward, a cold voice rang out behind him, laden with undisguised sarcasm.
"I cannot help but wonder whether there is a second person at Hogwarts who would be qualified to receive an invitation to this event."
Sagres paused and slowly turned around.
Professor Snape stood several paces away, like a ghost emerging from the shadows.
He held a small crystal vial filled with a viscous liquid. His dark eyes were fixed upon Sagres, and his sallow face carried an expression of open scrutiny and suspicion.
"Professor Snape."
Sagres raised an eyebrow slightly, displaying a perfectly measured degree of surprise.
"I didn't expect to meet you here. What an... unexpected encounter."
Professor Snape let out a cold snort.
"For someone with absolutely no interest in Potions to suddenly appear at an event like this, and without an invitation, no less, that is indeed quite unexpected."
Sagres ignored the accusation and instead asked,
"Is Professor Snape interested in tropical potion ingredients?"
"No interest."
Snape's voice remained smooth and low.
"However, Hogwarts' potion stores require replenishment of certain specialised ingredients."
His sharp gaze remained fixed on Sagres.
"Especially after my supplies of African Tree Snake skin, Lacewing flies, and a considerable number of other ingredients mysteriously disappeared."
Sagres blinked innocently.
"Such a thing happened? Perhaps some misguided young wizard..."
"I suspect," Snape interrupted dryly, "that no student currently possesses the courage required to steal from my stores."
Sagres nodded as though he agreed completely before changing the subject.
"But Professor... surely you're not suspecting me?"
Snape did not answer immediately.
Instead, he continued staring at Sagres with that deeply uncomfortable gaze.
Several suffocating seconds passed before he finally spoke.
"Then explain this, Sagres. Far from the castle and your various dangerous extracurricular activities, you just happen to appear at a potion ingredients exposition thousands of miles away."
His voice lowered even further as he leaned in slightly.
"It is difficult not to draw certain... associations."
His eyes narrowed.
"Are you plotting something again for your... little organisation?"
Several nearby witches and wizards had already noticed the confrontation between these two very different men, and curious glances quietly began drifting in their direction.
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