From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

Yes, it's me.

William was astonished that the old man could still recall events from eight years ago through a single wand he had sold—such extraordinary memory was too far-fetched to be explained by magic alone. It was truly remarkable that the old man hadn't forgotten anything from three thousand volumes of Liu Bei's writings every year.

"What's wrong with it?"

“I think so. I don’t know why, but it became resistant after I left Azkaban.”

William honestly didn't hide anything; he was genuinely afraid that this walking giant storage device would discover something from the wand, even though the Azkaban story sounded a bit far-fetched, it was still an excuse.

"Azkaban?"

Ollivander took William's wand, stroked it, carefully wiped away the fingerprints and sweat, and then regretfully handed the wand back to William.

"Normally, a wizard's wand will stay with its master for life, unless the master's will changes drastically."

"Put it away carefully, Mr. William. You no longer need it for courage. A new wand will accompany you on your journey."

William followed Ollivander's instructions without hesitation—for a wand maker who could recognize the owner of a wand sold eight years ago, even the most mystical words were worth obeying. He could probably recall the entire history of a wand from its creation to its sealing away just by looking at it.

This level of skill is probably what is meant by "approaching the Tao"; a swindler could never reach this level.

With that in mind, William simply asked about the price of the empty box and bought one for three siscon. He then carefully wiped the unruly wand clean, placed it inside and secured it, and then put the box away.

Such a work is worth the effort. Even though the wand William will use is still nowhere in sight, he is confident that, whether the wand is strong or weak, it will be the most suitable for him.

Chapter Twenty: Wands and Magical Experiments

Every wand made by Ollivander awaits its master, but unfortunately, some people's owls fail to deliver the message in time.

William couldn't remember where he had heard this before, but since he rarely watched movies, he didn't think much of it at the time. It was only now, while testing the eighteenth wand, that the phrase popped into his head for no reason.

After a more meticulous measurement process than a tailor's, Ollivander took down a bunch of wands from the wall and had him try them out one by one.

Although he didn't feel that these steps were magical, William still cooperated and did everything as Ollivander asked, waving the wands as instructed.

These new wands were not as resistant to William's swings as the previous one, but before William could even try to use magic, Ollivander would snatch the wand away, seal it away again, and then take out the next wand from the box and hand it to him.

When the nineteenth wand was handed to him, William instinctively took it, only to find that the wood, which should have been slightly cool, had become warm, even a little hot, but it didn't hurt. Instead, it felt like someone had handed him a hot water bottle when his hands and feet were freezing in winter, making him reluctant to let go.

He loosened his grip slightly, and the wand slid a few inches, then became incredibly easy to wield, as if his arm had been extended.

Silver stars fell rapidly from the top of the wand, transforming into dazzling fireworks in the blink of an eye, creating a beautiful curtain of light in the sky.

"Great, excellent, perfect teamwork."

Ollivander clapped his hands in praise; "Thirteen inches, cedar wood, unicorn hair, it has chosen you."

“I think so too.” William showed the happiest smile he had had since arriving in the magical world. He felt as if his best friend had held his hand, making him feel that he was no longer fighting alone.

He had no intention of figuring out what the materials meant at the moment. He wouldn't trade them for a Gundam, so what did the materials matter?

If poverty hadn't prevented him from regaining his last shred of rationality, he would have wanted to throw away all the money he had on him right now, just keeping this magic wand would have been enough.

“Eleven Galleons, only the first wand of a new student gets a discount,” Mr. Ollivander told him with a smile.

It was much cheaper than he had imagined. William resisted the urge to grab a handful of gold and carefully counted out eleven Galleons, handing them over—without a doubt, the man before him was a true master.

They run their own business with such meticulousness, paying attention to every detail of their work—those who sell swords and make canes in the same industry in Canada and lose money should really reflect on why they've ended up like this.

After saying goodbye to Mr. Ollivander once again, William left the shop with the two wands.

He originally had a lot of things to do, but William put all of them aside for the moment.

What he needs now is not random potion ingredients, nor any magic he has never seen before, nor Galleons or any other currency, but a quiet, undisturbed room to familiarize himself with his first wand, and then use that wand to familiarize himself with the magic he has been secretly learning in Azkaban for so long.

-

Break the Cauldron Bar.

Although old Tom was slightly puzzled that William hadn't properly enjoyed the freedom outside after his release from prison, he simply informed William of the mealtime and said nothing more—if he missed the time, the free meals would be replaced with paid evening specials.

After responding, William eagerly returned to the house and locked the door.

Although Old Tom's tavern was unlikely to contain any melodramatic events like murder or robbery, William still did it instinctively.

Next, he spent less than ten minutes moving the furniture and clutter on the floor to make room for his practice area.

“Hoo,” William took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, raised his wand, and unleashed the first spell of his life.

"Fluorescent flash!"

The newly acquired wand lit up, its seemingly soft light not even suppressed by sunlight.

"Ha," William exhaled, collapsing onto the bed—if he had to learn to cast even the simplest spells bit by bit, he'd probably be the funniest professor in Hogwarts history.

Once William is labeled as someone who was kicked out of Hogwarts because of his lack of ability, he'll probably have to go out to sea to make a living elsewhere, and he'll most likely starve to death because he's not good enough.

"Next spell, Levitation Charm."

"The key points of the spell must be pronounced correctly, otherwise you might summon a bull—"

William was extremely cautious. Summoning a cow might be a joke among students, but he genuinely possessed enough magic power to summon one.

A few seconds later, the quill used in the experiment floated perfectly – success.

Clear water like a spring—success.

The Arajou Cave opened – success.

……

By the time it was almost time to eat, William had successfully tested more than a dozen simple spells that did not require targeting himself. He would succeed in no more than three attempts. However, these simple spells were not difficult to cast, and William had enough magic power to cast them without much difficulty.

Overjoyed with his success, William rushed down the stairs, prompting old Tom to call out several times to be careful.

When the food was served, old Tom couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong, William? Did you steal Gringotts?"

"Hey, I just came from that godforsaken place, and I'm not planning on giving credit to the batters."

"Is it because some pureblood has taken a liking to your looks and wants to let you work less?"

"I'd like to, but purebloods only seek out purebloods, right?" William jokingly agreed, as this was the only way he could share his joy with others.

"That's not necessarily true. Purebloods aren't limited to just the mistress."

"Go away, or I'll report you for mixing alcohol into the water!" William feigned anger.

"So this is a solid drink, you'll have to pay extra." Old Tom wasn't annoyed, he just smiled and spread his hands.

William pulled out a nut and said generously, "Take it, keep the change."

The onlookers chuckled along, and the tavern erupted in laughter.

Old Tom didn't stand on ceremony. He picked up the copper nut without any sign of disgust, waved it at the group of drunkards, and left triumphantly—he was now certain that life in Azkaban hadn't brought much darkness to the little guy in front of him.

William also showed a smug look to the people around him, took a few steps to the bar, and served everyone present a drink, venting all his joy in this way.

The atmosphere in the tavern became increasingly lively.

Chapter Twenty-One: The Letter of Appointment and the Curse

"Ta-da!"

The rhythmic tapping woke William from his deep sleep. He rubbed his face, and just as he was about to curse, he suddenly remembered that he was no longer in Azkaban—there was no longer any need to try to fit in by cursing.

Feeling sleepy, William walked toward the source of the sound.

It was a large brown owl, standing outside the window, rhythmically tapping on the glass with its hard beak.

Upon seeing William awaken, the visitor stopped what he was doing, spread his wings, and made a cooing sound.

When the window was opened, this enormous creature, almost unrecognizable as an owl, flew in, landed on the table, and began searching through the clutter on the table.

Before long, a small tin box was pulled out and opened—inside was a small portion of owl food.

Because the number of owls is almost as many as the number of wizards, every hotel keeps a small box of them in the rooms, but this one is clearly a bit too familiar with people.

Before William could even call out, it started eating on its own, casually stretching out its leg towards William.

A pale yellow letter was tied to it. William took the letter down, intending to say something, but the process seemed to be interrupted by the visitor.

So he had no choice but to open the envelope.

His address was written in emerald green ink, and on the back of the letter, the wax seal was intact, with a coat of arms indicating who the sender was.

Next to the capital letter H, four animal symbols surround it—this is the emblem of Hogwarts.

It should be an appointment letter, but it's the kind that has no collectible value.

William thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile.

At this moment, apart from madmen, probably few people would want to receive this offer of employment. Otherwise, why would Hogwarts go all the way to Azkaban to find him?

William quickly tore open the wax seal and pulled out several sheets of parchment from the letter.

The first page is a letter.

Dear Mr. Lee William;

We are pleased to inform you that your application for employment has been approved by both Hogwarts School of Design and the Ministry of Magic. (Did I actually write that?)

Your employment letter, along with a series of expenses including onboarding allowance, settling-in allowance, living allowance, and transportation allowance, are attached below.

The new semester is scheduled for September 1st. You need to submit your textbook requirements and course schedule application one month in advance, and submit a report to the school regarding classroom and course funding for the new academic year.

We will notify students to purchase textbooks for the new academic year by sending supplementary letters. If there are any other missing matters, students can consult the vice principal's office every Monday or Wednesday before August 1st.

Vice Principal (female) Minerva McGonagall

On the second page of the letter is William's letter of appointment.

Compared to the Muggle world's employment contracts, there was nothing unusual about them. The only thing that made William a little concerned was his position—on the paper, the line "Wizard Self-Defense Magic Study" just didn't look right.

Although the employment contract stated it was for life, William felt that he was unlikely to receive a second year's salary.

Then there are all sorts of other things—the textbooks chosen by previous professors, the Ministry of Magic's curriculum, the scope of the OWL and NEWT exams, job application guidelines, recommended clothing lists, and a whole host of other things that you don't need to worry about for the time being.

At the end of the letter was a considerable sum of money—it's unclear whether it was intended as a bribe to save someone's life.

Three hundred Galleons—and that's just an advance payment. Salary and other details weren't mentioned in the letter; they'll most likely have to be discussed in person after I go to the school.

Anyway, as a professor, his only options are to go to Hogwarts or flee overseas. If he dares to strike, the Ministry of Magic will issue an arrest warrant for him.

'I became a professor just like that? There should at least be some ceremony!'