From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

Throughout Hogwarts, everyone knows that Professor Snape's most hated student is a Gryffindor student—and if you had to pick someone from Gryffindor who he dislikes the most, it would definitely be Harry Potter!

William had actually seen Professor Snape's record of misconduct, based on the information provided by Torfelch. He had a clear understanding of how Harry's father bullied Professor Snape and how Professor Snape bullied other students.

'The cycle of school bullying never ends, it's really—' William shook his head and approached Harry's photo—although the photo was animated, it didn't have the ability to communicate like a portrait, so it was perfectly safe to look at.

'Was this torn? Or cut open by a knife or magic?'

William examined the photograph closely, trying to determine how the marks on it came about.

If it weren't for the powerful restoration magic that followed, this photograph would have been torn to pieces long ago.

'Unable to physically harm the real person, so you vent your frustration with photos?'

Or is there some other reason?

William wasn't sure, but he quickly bypassed the photographs and began examining the rows of bookshelves.

The latest section had obvious gaps, and after confirming that there were no traps or magic spells in it, William pulled out a book to read.

His guess was correct—the bill above contained all the donations Slytherin received in 1982 and the expenses incurred, all clearly recorded.

'Found it, this is it.'

'Those violations, if recorded, should appear in the appendix.'

"I need to copy this quickly," William thought as he pulled out his tools—a few shorthand quills and parchment.

If Professor Snape found out about what happened today, he would definitely draw his wand and challenge him to a duel, and no one would dare to stop him.

'I need to check for any omissions and see if there are any other clues that might have given me away.'

William gripped his wand tightly—if someone suddenly walked in, he would either have to ambush them and erase their memories or abandon everything and run for his life.

Chapter 190 Having accomplished his task, he departs.

William returned to the entrance to the dark room and set up a rather simple security mechanism—normally, such physical mechanisms are more effective at preventing wizards from using magic.

'I must be on my guard against the unknown,' William said, popping a mint leaf into his mouth. 'Hopefully, nothing unusual will happen.'

He held onto his wand and began to examine the layers of bookshelves, noting the approximate thickness of dust in each area on a piece of paper.

'Hmm, according to the records I found, Professor Slughorn retired in 1981, while Professor Snape took over as Head of Slytherin in the same year—it's outrageous, becoming Head of Slytherin right after joining…'

As he complained, he pulled out a book from the least conspicuous spot on the bookshelf to determine its recorded year.

'1981?'

William flipped through the books, and when he drew the fourth one, he confirmed the record of the year Professor Slughorn left his post.

'This ledger must have been kept by Snape after he took office.' William pulled out the first of the various ledgers, intending to see if any instructions from his predecessor had been recorded during the handover—although such a record certainly wouldn't be completely private, there might be some interesting discoveries.

[The only remaining Slytherin professor in the school became the Head of the House upon enrollment... Ha, is he trying to keep those graduating students from joining the Death Eaters?]

William was so startled he almost closed the book.

What does it mean to be the only remaining professor from Slytherin?

If Snape hadn't joined in 1981, wouldn't none of the Slytherin graduates have stayed on as faculty?

"Yes, at that time, the Dark Lord was at the height of his power, and I doubt any Slytherin graduate intended to stay and work for Dumbledore."

He composed himself, opened the book directly to the shorthand quills, and the quills began to work quickly.

'Go back and investigate further; now is not the time to be surprised.' William composed himself and began to examine the previous records.

But problems soon arose. He kept checking the records and discovered something quite terrifying—Professor Slughorn's own ledger, like the records he had kept over the years, spanned a long period of time and contained a lot of information.

"Good heavens! He was a professor for a full fifty years, from 1931 to 1981, and then he served as dean for forty years. Wasn't he afraid of corruption?"

Now the question is facing William: should the confiscation be carried out when the Dark Lord enrolled, as already deduced, or from the time Professor Slughorn became Dean?

'No, the Dark Lord enrolled in 1938; this record isn't complete!'

Upon discovering this fact, William was dumbfounded by the huge pile of things he had to copy.

He even had a momentary impulse to go back and make exam papers to collect cards from boxes—with so many records, how long would it take to find them?

In the end, he held back. He'd check it later; he had a shorthand quill pen for copying, so it shouldn't be too slow.

Why can magical items be counterfeited using copying charms, but books can't?

Now there's no need to skimp on it. Although copying everything at once makes more noise, it's impossible to finish without releasing everything—unfinished records can be misleading.

With a wry smile, William pulled out stacks of paper and quills. He then took out the notebooks he wanted to copy from the bookshelf, and with a wave of his wand, all the notebooks flew into the air.

All the shorthand quills he brought began to work at breakneck speed, one pen for each book, dancing across a stack of papers.

The quill pen, operating at full power, even left a phantom image on the paper, almost instantly filling it with notes. Then, under the magical influence of the quill pen, it floated to the side, and the quill pen began to scribble the next sheet of paper with a speed that astonished even a pigeon.

"Thankfully, I've already applied for seven dozen of these shorthand quill pens just for copying papers and such; otherwise, copying so much material in such a short time would have been a real nightmare."

As for paper, that was no problem at all. Knowing that he used a lot of paper, Bart brought back enough paper to be as tall as two people. To prevent it from taking up space, he put it all in a bag—after all, the bag had a levitation charm to reduce its weight.

Even so, the copying work was not easy—Professor Slughorn, who had served for many years, had left behind so many records that even William felt sorry for the quill pens.

'I reckon a lot of those pens will be ruined, but the reporting and approval process is easy,' William said, flipping through the records of the previous dean. 'It's a good thing I wasn't asked to copy it myself. If I were, I probably would have had to fabricate a story about Professor Snape's office being burglarized or even burned down...'

Several of the specimens in the room were originally explosive. If William could fabricate a story that someone accidentally broke the jar, then fake the theft of the books and ensure they would be damaged in a disaster, it wouldn't be a big problem. However, that would be too extreme and easily detected—after all, the former Ministry of Magic employee who made this claim was caught and ended up in Azkaban, even though he burned down the storeroom he was guarding…

'Hmm? This format is wrong? A gift receipt record? It's also Professor Slughorn's?'

How could something like this be put into the academy's records?

Although the professor who later became the dean certainly wouldn't expose the matter, it doesn't seem very safe to remember something like this so openly.

However, considering the potentially useful information inside, William still handed the book to the quills.

By the time this quill pen extravaganza was nearing its end, more than a dozen quill pens had worn out, and the copying became sluggish, like a child who had just learned to write—clearly, the magic was almost gone.

"Shouldn't it be about time?"

William quickly searched the records on the bookshelf, and after confirming that there was nothing of value, he began to wave his wand to fake dust—although he wasn't a professional, doing everything would minimize the possibility of things being exposed.

The dust that had been scattered during the copying process floated up and, under the direction of the wand, spread out unevenly according to William's memory, restoring the original appearance.

William took one last look and gave his evaluation of his work.

'Hmm, perfect,'

He even considered saying something sarcastic, but after some hesitation, he ultimately gave up on this move that seemed a bit like planting a flag.

'Task complete, job done.'

William silently gave himself a melodramatic command, began to restore the entrance to the secret room, clean up the footprints he had left when he entered the room, and then grabbed his wand and went to the door.

'Hoo,' he exhaled softly, tapped his wand on the door, activating the defensive magic on it again, pulled away the wooden piece, opened the door with his left hand, and prepared for a face to appear—the door opened gently, and the five o'clock corridor was deserted.

William pulled a feather from his pocket, erased the last trace of footprints, and smiled as he closed the door to Professor Snape's office. The wand that had slid across the door once was withdrawn as the door was locked.

'One layer of defenses was damaged, but this is normal given that Gryffindors are staying at the castle.'

William easily cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, dodged the portrait, passed through the secret passage, and returned to his office.

Click.

As the office door closed, William slumped into his chair, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

Chapter 191 Terrifying Associations

'Finally, we succeeded.'

Slumped in his chair, William regulated his breathing.

The journey of a hundred miles is only half complete at ninety. He was fine when he was copying those documents in the room, but after he left Snape's office, even when he was walking in the secret passage, he felt as if he was walking on the edge of a knife instead of solid ground.

Wiping away a cold sweat, William began to feel a sense of lingering fear.

'If they're discovered, Azkaban will probably be imprisoned for life.'

However, the result was good. If he hadn't obtained those records in this way, he would never have been able to see them in his lifetime—not even if Dumbledore had strongly insisted. As long as a dean had any principles, he would never let others see such things.

"A very fruitful haul," William said, patting his bag. All the copied manuscripts were inside, waiting for him to bind and peruse them, to find the useful information from the messy records.

After discovering that the Dark Lord's real name was Tom Riddle, many secrets were naturally revealed to him, and what he obtained tonight was probably enough to uncover more than half of the Death Eaters' true nature.

'Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated. If you missed the movie, you can make up for it elsewhere. There are many roads to Rome, and I really don't believe I can't break this damn curse!'

William regained some strength, wiped the sweat from his brow, and tiptoed out of the office toward the inner room—the bedroom door could act as a buffer if someone came in.

William lit the candles, controlled the light with magic, and took out the first copy of Professor Snape's records of taking over the house.

At the time, the conditions didn't allow it, and now he really wants to know what exactly happened back then that led to this newly hired professor becoming the dean.

[The only remaining Slytherin professor in the school became the Head of the House upon enrollment... Ha, is he trying to keep those graduating students from joining the Death Eaters?] (Note)

The elf transcribed these complaints perfectly, and even seeing them again still made William find it unbelievable—a newly hired professor becoming the headmaster was simply incredible for a magic school like Hogwarts with a history spanning thousands of years.

Snape's complaints were discontinuous, appearing only in the margins of the first ledger, making for a poor reading experience, but this only fueled William's curiosity.

Professor Hoglas has resigned. He was the last Slytherin professor in the school, and I, in taking over his position, also took over as Head of Slytherin... He was such a fool (a series of black lines)

Blacken it?

William paused for a moment, realizing that the quill pen had copied even the black areas when it copied the image.

Interesting—calling your ex a stupid guy?

William thought for a moment, but in the end he didn't take out any candy. Instead, he took out a straw and bit it in his mouth, trying to convince himself that it was a lollipop.

The rainy season is over, his weight has returned to normal, and he no longer dares to consume so much sugar.

Biting hard at the wheat stalk, William began to ponder what was going on—criticizing a former colleague increased the likelihood that the professor from back then was an idiot. Either the other person had done a terrible job, or their views clashed. Which one could it be?

The students are getting bolder; they—(a series of black marks)

Are the students bold?

William pondered for a moment and recalled what Professor Lockhart had told him about Snape at the beginning of the semester. After Snape joined the faculty, many of the students who knew him back then had not yet graduated, so Professor Snape did not have a good reputation among the students.

'That doesn't make sense. Calling Professor Snape harsh is a bit of an exaggeration, but calling him mild is just boasting. With such power, would a student dare to openly contradict him?'

As a professor who had been with Hogwarts for less than half a year, William was already very familiar with the rules of confinement. Even though Professor Snape had a history of being beaten up, his authority could still be guaranteed by the two powerful tools of deduction and confinement.

He couldn't bear to look any longer, so he put away the copied manuscript and started searching through the pile of materials he had previously reviewed.