From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

Ginny's straight shot froze Mrs. Weasley's smile.

“Ron, you’re still young, and that crown isn’t that magical,” Mrs. Weasley ruffled Ron’s hair. “Have some candy and tell us about today’s game. Ginny and I didn’t watch it.”

-

Ron wandered aimlessly down the school corridor after his visit was over.

Gryffindor were still celebrating their victory, but Ron felt he couldn't possibly join in the joyful atmosphere.

An invisible monster roared inside his chest, but he didn't know why it was roaring or what it was roaring about.

'I really don't know?'

Or am I just afraid to find out?

Such thoughts swirled in his mind, leaving him unsure of where to go next.

"Ron Weasley?"

'Who's calling me?' He snapped out of his reverie and realized that the smiling guy in front of him was one of the people he hated most—Lockhart!

But if you run into them, you have to say hello.

"Professor Lockhart, hello."

“I’m fine, but you’re not so fine, kid,” Lockhart said with his perfect smile. “You’ve heard of Professor Lockhart’s Problem Solving Club, haven’t you?”

'I've heard of it. Harry and I have always complained about the name of that damn stupid club.'

But what came out of my mouth was, "I've heard of you, Professor, but I've never come before. I don't like to bother others."

“That’s not a problem,” Lockhart said with a friendly smile. “Let’s talk. You have to trust the amazing Professor Lockhart.”

As if by some strange twist of fate, Ron took a step he had never been willing to take before—he had never imagined that he would be reduced to needing Lockhart to solve his problems.

"It smells so good," Ron said, looking around at the place he never thought he would be in.

“A little incense, I like this,” Lockhart said, sitting down opposite him. “I hope you like it too.”

……

"See, the problem is solved just like that, isn't it?"

Professor Lockhart patted Ron on the shoulder, and Ron didn't feel disgusted at all. On the contrary, he felt that the hand was full of warmth, driving away all his unease and gloom.

'I was so stupid before; I actually questioned a professor like that.'

The thought involuntarily popped into his mind.

This made him feel incredibly ashamed, but he also began to worry—unconsciously, he told the professor in front of him many of his troubles, including things that could and could not be said, and all the dark parts that were hidden deep inside.

"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, Professor Lockhart's club has hosted countless students, and not a single word has ever leaked out."

As if he had read Ron's mind, Professor Lockhart smiled confidently—which made Ron feel even more ashamed.

“Alright, child, just as you think, make up for the friendship in your own way, celebrate for them,” Professor Lockhart said, looking a little tired. “Of course, if there’s anything that can’t be resolved right now, feel free to come to me.”

"Yes, Professor, thank you, Professor."

Ron expressed his sincere gratitude.

"Then goodbye, Mr. Weasley."

Lockhart waved goodbye.

-

'I was actually jealous of Harry and the others, and even jealous that my brother and sister got to touch the tiara,' Ron said, walking down the corridor, filled with regret. 'Ginny's been injured and hospitalized ever since, and I was actually jealous that she found Ravenclaw's tiara!'

Thank goodness for Professor Lockhart.

He complained about his jealousy while also blaming himself for his past prejudice against the professor.

'Just like the professor said, I need to make up for it with my blessings. I need to find someone to properly celebrate for Harry and Hermione, instead of just offering a perfunctory blessing.'

'Go find Hagrid, go find Hagrid, he'll definitely be happy to help me celebrate with Harry and the others.'

With that thought in mind, he began to walk toward the Forbidden Forest.

-

"Okay, keep smiling!"

The Daily Prophet's reporter kept ordering the Quidditch players to pose for photos in all sorts of ways—"Perfect, perfect! Do you want to be picking your noses on the front page of the paper tomorrow?"

"Hey Adams, do magic photos make people pick their noses?"

William asked Adams in a low voice.

"How should I know? I'm not a photographer, and I've never seen a picture of someone picking their nose—William, don't kid me, I'm going to take the test!"

Adams was getting impatient; he had been waiting all day, but the photographer was still figuring out how to take a good shot.

Finally, the photographer was satisfied.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, I’m sorry, I’m being too presumptuous, but may I touch this crown?”

He asked cautiously and eagerly.

“I’m sorry, the protective magic above is too ancient and is still under research—” Dumbledore replied regretfully, “but you can take a couple of close-up photos, you can even get the lens close to your face.”

The photographer was overjoyed by the response and took photos from various angles until he ran out of film.

-

After the reluctant photographers and the Gryffindor team left, Professor McGonagall's office became empty.

The crown, which had been transported in a transparent box, has now been unbound and lies quietly on the velvet, awaiting a brave warrior to take on the challenge.

'I was careless. Why are there so many Weasleys here?'

William looked at the three red-haired men, wanting to complain but not knowing what to say—Percy was someone he had brought along, and as a reward for his assistance during this time and an investment for the future, the top student in the sixth year of Hogwarts was worth the price.

As for the other two, William had already promised them that these two kids would even arrest their own sister to solve the case, and that they would bring back the crown. William couldn't go back on his word, so he took advantage of the school team's photo shoot to fulfill his promise.

“Professor William, Professor Flitwick, Severus, and Minerva, each of you stand guard on one side and interrupt the experimenter immediately if anything goes wrong.”

Dumbledore, unusually, held his wand and gave William and his companions a task.

'No, why am I here too?'

William was taken aback, realizing that no one present objected—it was common knowledge that the professor of self-defense magic was not weak in combat.

Moreover, William is a wizard who graduated from a traditional master-apprentice lineage—in the wizarding world that seeks the ancient, wizards with William's background are naturally highly regarded, otherwise he would have faced even greater resistance in becoming a professor.

“I am here too,” Dumbledore added, dispelling everyone’s last concerns. “Then, let’s start with the professor. Professor Adams, get ready.”

Chapter 166 The Shameful Pharmacist

"How are you feeling, Adams?"

As Adams removed the crown from his head, William pointed his wand firmly at him and asked loudly.

“Better than ever, William—” Adams replied with a laugh, “I don’t think I could do any better.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore replied gently. “Professor Adams, are you ready?”

"I'm all done. Can I go get my wand now?"

“Yes, put the extracted memories over there, Professor Adams.”

Adams slowly picked up the wand and then retrieved the memory from his mind—something that had been agreed upon before the experiment, the most effective way to prevent being controlled by that crown.

William watched Adams' movements intently, ready to cast a stun spell on him without hesitation should Adams do anything wrong.

But nothing unexpected happened. Adams quickly put down his wand after extracting the memories, and Professor Snape, who was in charge of the testing, stepped forward and began to process and interpret the memories in the Pensieve.

'I still have a lot to learn, but I have to take it one step at a time—' William glanced at Professor Snape out of the corner of his eye, and couldn't help but make the connection, but his wand in his hand did not loosen at all, and he kept his eyes fixed on Adams.

Finally, after confirming several times, Professor Snape gave a safe signal.

“Very good, Professor Adams. Please stand over there in the room and wait for some time to observe. If there are no problems by evening, you may touch your wand.”

"No problem, Professor McGonagall. Could I have some paper and a pen? I just had a wonderful idea!"

Adams was beaming with joy. It seemed that in the short time he had been wearing the crown, he had successfully solved at least one problem that had been bothering him for a long time.

'This must be the extraordinary wisdom bestowed upon people by the crown, but it probably won't be so miraculous every time. Whether it's Adams or Professor Kettleburn, they both had accumulated their wisdom over a long period of time, like water that had piled up high on a riverbank, when suddenly the crown opened a breach, and then it burst through the solid dam uncontrollably.'

'Even so, the crown's power is terrifying—for a wizard, is there anything more precious than extraordinary wisdom?'

At this moment, Dumbledore had already begun to have the next professor prepare, and it seemed that he had no intention of letting the students begin testing until all the professors had verified the safety.

The testing proceeded smoothly until the last professor finished testing, and there were still no problems.

The professors, now freed from their wands, showed no concern whatsoever. They happily divided up the quills in Professor McGonagall's office, and because they ran out of quills, they even started to destroy the phoenix feathers in Professor McGonagall's collection.

"Minerva, since Fawkes is still shaving off his hair, Dumbledore won't be stingy!"

The professors said this as they scrambled for ink.

The professors were quite happy that the problem had been solved, but William and the other three professors, as well as Dumbledore, did not smile.

It's a foregone conclusion that the crown has been enchanted; betting that the bomb won't explode is not a wise idea.

Compared to professors, student experiments are more dangerous, and they have a lower awareness of the dangers of the crown.

"Professor, shall I ask again?"

William looked at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded, telling the others to put down their wands and rest for a while—the remaining professors, except for William, were all quite old, and after such intense surveillance, they wouldn't be able to maintain their focus without a break.

While the professors were taking a break, William walked up to the students.

"The professors have finished testing everything, and we're pretty sure there's something wrong with the crown, but after so many tests, we still haven't found anything—"

William stared at them. "I'm asking you this one last time. If any of you want to give up, you can say so now. Knowing when to give up is a virtue."

The three Gryffindors William brought, the one Gryffindor Professor McGonagall brought, and the two Ravenclaws Professor Flitwick brought after discussing with William all shook their heads—clearly none of them were willing to give up.

“Alright, then you start, Percy,” William said, pointing at Percy. “You’re the prefect, and with power comes responsibility. You go first.”

Percy excitedly stepped forward, but William grabbed him by the back of his neck.

"Stop right there! Calm down! Otherwise, you'll be disqualified!" William shouted sternly. "Think about what you're going to do with that wisdom, what problem you want to solve, and stop letting your mind wander!"