From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

“That’s right, we killed them all in one go today,” Adams replied, looking at the roast chicken.

"Hagrid was right; I hadn't considered that at all—"

"comprehensive?"

"Yes, do you remember what Miss Ginny came here for in the first place?"

"Killing a chicken for blood, but that parchment has been destroyed—there are too many messy rituals in black magic, I can't guess what situation would require chicken blood."

"Yes, blood collection. In reality, it seems useless to us. As long as the blood is here, people will covet it. The most ridiculous thing is that we bought it again."

“So,” Adams laughed heartily, “we killed all the roosters, so that even if there’s a flaw in the crown, Hogwarts won’t have any chicken blood left for it.”

In Western fantasy stories, isn't that what you think about dragons starving to death?

“That’s a great idea,” William said in a low voice. “So the centaurs are here to help us win?”

“Shh,” Adams also lowered his voice, “but we made it in time. We were originally planning to do it in several parts, but Hagrid felt that Harry’s victory was hard-won and wanted to celebrate properly—and also give the kid a belated birthday celebration.”

'Oh right, and there's also the belated birthday celebration,' William suddenly remembered how upset he was when he first came to school because Harry hadn't replied to Hagrid's letter.

"It's pretty good, I won't let it slip."

"That's good. By the way, I've collected all the chicken blood carefully. You're a professional, and I was afraid it would be misused, so I put it all in this bucket over here." Adams suddenly pointed to the bucket next to him.

How to deal with it?

Logically speaking, eating it is the safest option.

But I haven't learned how to make blood curd. Can chicken blood be used to make blood curd?

Chapter 168: Long-term debuff...

Looking at the bucket full of chicken blood, William was a little troubled—pig blood can be made into blood tofu with salt and water, but can chicken blood?

Moreover, he has never actually tried any dishes made with chicken blood. He has eaten duck blood in hot pot, but they are probably not interchangeable, right?

William thought about it and finally decided to give it a try—if it really didn't work, he could just let the ingredients go to waste; he couldn't let the blood become a potential problem, could he?

Theoretically, salt and water are mixed in a certain ratio, and then chicken blood is poured in.

After making five or six mistakes in a row, William successfully produced the first batch of blood using his experience in correcting potions. After that, the bucket of blood naturally turned into tofu.

'Once it solidifies, it should be useless—unless that some random ritual requires hot pot ingredients.'

"Adams, do you know him?"

William held up the blood clot to show off, remembering that in many places, animal blood was not consumed.

“Blood sausage? It’s kind of like it, but without the casing—” Adams poked at it uncertainly with his hand. “Eating the congealed chicken blood directly? That’s a pretty good idea. I can try cooking it.”

"Blood sausage?"

This time it was William's turn to be surprised.

“Of course, German blood sausage, a very famous dish—” He took the blood tofu from William’s hand, “Don’t underestimate Hufflepuff graduates!”

Don't give Hufflepuff graduates any weird or nonsensical settings!

But Adams, busy researching new recipes, had no time to pay attention to William's complaints. He began taking out all sorts of things from his bag—a cutting board, three sets of knives, four pots of different shapes, a jumble of herbs that William couldn't even recognize, and various spice containers…

“It’ll be ready soon. I’ll try out the cooking method,” Adams waved his hand without turning his head. “With magic helping, it’ll be quick. You can go do other things.”

I feel rejected...

"Okay, then I'll look forward to it!"

Hufflepuff's cooking skills are still trustworthy. After considering that his own cooking is barely edible, William decided to trust Adams—what if he makes a mess of things?

The centaurs were already having a blast around the campfire—Hagrid had brought a lot of liquor, though the quality was so-so, but there was plenty of it, and the centaurs didn't mind. Even though the roast meat wasn't ready yet, they had already opened quite a few barrels of liquor.

'Let's go sit with Hagrid and the others for a while,' William said, glancing around before deciding against sitting among the centaurs—not because he had any prejudice against them, but because being near them reminded him of his former cellmate…

William remembers those studies about centaurs very clearly. Back in Azkaban, it was a famous joke, and now if he accidentally says something inappropriate, it would be a real disaster.

“William,” Hagrid said, raising his bucket-sized mug, “is Professor Adams working on a new recipe again?”

“Of course,” William said, sitting down by the fire, picking up a skewer of sausages and grilling them over the fire. “He likes herbal dishes, especially using herbs in his food.”

"Oh, right, I forgot to congratulate you. You played exceptionally well in yesterday's match, Mr. Potter." William turned his head and added his congratulations.

"Thank you, Professor."

Harry was very polite, but it was clear that he wasn't too pleased with the large group of people celebrating—the boy was much more reserved now than when William caught him wandering around at night.

'Oh right, he was the one who reminded me about ghosts last time—he said he heard some weird noises, was it Ginny making them or was he just hallucinating?'

"Mr. Potter, have you heard any more of the strange noises you mentioned last time?"

"No, Professor."

Harry was somewhat surprised, but quickly responded.

"That's good," William said, relieved—it was most likely Ginny who did it, using an unknown secret passage.

While we can't rule out the possibility that the child crashed into a tree and damaged his head, since he can't hear anymore, he should be fine now.

"Yes, thank you, Professor."

Although William was still curious about what inspiration the girl next to him who jumped off the train on her first day of school had received from the crown, he didn't ask in front of his two friends—it's not about scarcity but about inequality, and the other two kids probably wouldn't feel good if he brought it up.

"William, William, the new dish is ready! Come and try it!"

Just as William was deep in thought, Adams came over with a large pot floating in the air behind him, adding something to the centaur bowl next to the fire as he walked, much like a waiter handing out plum juice at Haidilao.

"what?"

"I tried stewing, baking, steaming, and frying, but I finally found that this stuff is best for soup. It has a very tender texture."

"Alright, whatever you say goes." William took the bowl, took a small sip, and thought, "Hmm, it tastes alright."

“I’ve gone to distribute them. You can drink slowly. There’s plenty of material today,” Adams said smugly. “After you drink it, let’s see who can use it for bad things!”

-

diary

October st

After a busy day, once the drinks started, the centaurs weren't so hard to get along with. Controlling my emotions was much easier than I imagined. Those centaurs were really honest; they didn't try to cheat or take advantage of me when drinking. Although they had rather bad tempers, they were quite nice to be around for a while.

Wait a minute—I have no intention of putting that report into practice!

October 2nd

The Daily Prophet published a special edition—the price remained the same, but the newspaper became three times thicker.

I wonder how much the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors subsidized this issue; the cost of this newspaper is much higher than its selling price.

It's said there will be extras distributed in the evening; the magical world is anything but obscure...

……

October

Adams is right; after drinking it, no one can do bad things.

After that celebration, Hogwarts quickly returned to a state of peace—or rather, returned to what a school should be.

Honestly, I couldn't be more satisfied than having such a happy week of classes.

Fifth graders diligently completed their tests, children in solitary confinement remained in solitary confinement, sixth graders broadened their horizons, and seventh graders guided the future—everything proceeded as planned.

Even the once-sensational crown controversy has subsided. Although the special edition of the Daily Prophet was quite a sensation, the storm has finally died down, the students are no longer discussing winning the crown, and everything seems to have returned to normal.

October 7th, cloudy

I hate cloudy days, but today is the second time the Corona Test is being conducted. Several professors are using it for the second time, and a few new professors have also joined in the experiment.

But the result was unexpected. The second time I wore the crown, it was nothing compared to the first time. This was even more exaggerated than I had guessed. The crown only gave me the inspiration to solve the problem. It was just a matter of accumulating knowledge and then letting it shine. It was not as magical as the legends passed down through the ages have made it out to be. Perhaps it has been overly romanticized in the stories passed down from generation to generation.

……

October 14th, Rain

I hate Britain—if anything is more unbearable than a cloudy day, it's a rainy day, and what's worse, it's been raining every single day for a week!

The dirt roads at Hogwarts have turned into swamps!

There's weather even more unbearable than the plum rain season in the south! I've never seen anything like it before!

Another test was conducted today, yielding no results. The professor, who used the crown for the third time, said that the insights he gained were similar to the second time, which is probably the only good news.

The crown didn't go well, and neither did I—(the black lines that had been crossed out were stained with ink again.)

...

October 18th – Rain!!!

Damn rain, why is there so much rain at Hogwarts?

There's not enough chocolate left!

The owl is extremely reluctant to work overtime. The fireplace is already fully operational, but it's still quite annoying. The drizzling rain is much more disgusting than the plum rain season. Every morning when I wake up and look out the window at the gray sky, it feels like I'm returning to that place all over again.

The only good thing is that the students in all three grades have made faster progress than expected. The fifth graders can even get an O from me, and that's without me giving them any leeway!

That Miss Nancy is really good at summarizing and identifying problems; I guess I need to change my approach to setting exam questions.

Also—Miss Nancy took twenty points from me, which forced me to write a report for approval by four deans. That's what happens when you get too many extra points…

Galon is fine; he'll get paid tomorrow.

-

After writing his diary entry for the 18th, William laid himself out on the bed. A thick stack of documents lay there waiting for his approval, but he had no interest in looking at them.

The aftereffects of Azkaban fully erupted in this rainy October. The gray, sunless sky made him constantly think about the mess that had happened there.

'They didn't check the alcohol yesterday, so we have to do our best today!'

William forced himself to eat a piece of chocolate, hoping the sweetness would help him regain some strength.

'No more! Chocolate is addictive!'

Suppressing his urge to eat more, William got out of bed—it was still raining outside, as if it would never stop.