From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

"The one who opened the Chamber of Secrets is a descendant of Slytherin. What is his connection to Professor Lockhart?"

He quickly wrote in his diary—he had thought it through on the way here. No one knew what had happened, no students had seen it, and no paintings or ghosts had seen it, so he was so confident in trying to explore new knowledge from the diary.

"Professor Lockhart graduated from Ravenclaw; this is common knowledge among the professors at the school. Who would doubt it?"

'If this diary says anything more foolish, it should be disposed of,' Lockhart thought to himself. 'Although the remaining treasures are tempting, safety is paramount; this notebook knows too much.'

"Yes, if your name isn't written on the secret chamber's inscription." A line suddenly appeared in the diary.

"Our great professor surely knows that Slytherin's heirs must leave their real names when using the Basilisk to inherit, and names possess magic," the diary entry read in its distinctive cursive script. "Just imagine how surprised Albus Dumbledore will be when he opens the Chamber of Secrets in twenty days and discovers the name of the person undergoing the Trial of Succession?"

"You're talking nonsense!"

Lockhart began to panic.

“Oh,” the diary wrote a single word in beautiful cursive, “Don’t you think about it? If the real name hadn’t been recorded, how could that ferocious basilisk have been so easily controlled? And without signing the name, how could the subsequent inheritance be initiated?”

Lockhart didn't respond; he was completely stunned.

Damn Slytherin's legacy, why does it have a name!

Twenty days, twenty days!

Running away wouldn't help; Dumbledore could easily extradite him back from all over the world—he knew this very well.

"No, I don't believe it!"

Lockhart shouted.

Then, he slammed the book shut and stuffed it into the deepest part of the drawer.

-

Panic, panic.

"The panic now isn't enough. As the twenty-day mark draws closer, the panic will only increase. The fear is almost there; all that's left is chaos."

Although the diary was closed, the cursive handwriting was still visible.

Chapter 205 Unraveling the Mystery, It's Still That Chicken

"Raising chickens in the bathroom? What kind of ingenious operation is that..."

William gave the rooster a disapproving look, which earned him a glare in return.

Yes, he was the professor of self-defense magic at Hogwarts, the kind with a formal employment contract. The headmaster of Hogwarts had personally assigned him the task of staking out the girls' restrooms…

'What kind of mess is this?!'

He muttered as he sat down in the chair and began flipping through his Transfiguration textbook—he wasn't the only professor guarding the area, and the basilisk was imprisoned below. If everyone on duty had to be extra careful, he'd be reporting to the mental hospital in less than a month.

In fact, after confirming that this was the entrance to the secret chamber, the toilet was completely banned. A dozen or so roosters were brought in, along with desks and chairs. The professors were divided into groups to guard the washroom, which was then reinforced with all sorts of bizarre spells by the professors, making it as sturdy as the Minister of Magic's office...

'The principal isn't doing a very good job.'

William had originally thought that once he finished guarding the Hufflepuff common room, Dumbledore would lead his men to raze the Chamber of Secrets and everything would be fine, but in the end, the door lock remained unopened...

William completely believed that the lock could be opened within a month, but he was certain that the original secret room was not opened by him. The person who originally opened the secret room would definitely be frantically looking for an opportunity during this month.

Thinking of this, William stood up and added another rope, just above his ankles, to the toilet entrance.

"Professor William, aren't you being overly cautious?"

Professor Taylor, who was in the same group, joked and nudged a rooster that was looking for food—the kind that had just grown its crest. Because the school had purchased too many, even these, which were barely distinguishable as male or female, were squeezed in.

“It’s always better to be careful,” William added two more spells to the wall at the entrance. “The secret room couldn’t have opened by itself from years of neglect.”

“That’s true. If Hagrid and Kettleburn hadn’t said that roosters are a good nemesis of basilisks, we wouldn’t be sitting here so peacefully,” Adams interjected. “But with so many lively little creatures running around in front of me, I’m really finding it hard to control myself…”

'You absolutely must control your restless hands.'

William glanced at the rooster Adams was feeding, hoping the little guy would have a better love for life—but the rooster was too busy eating wheat to react.

"There are still four hours until your shift changes, Adams. Don't relax so much," William advised Adams, then started reading.

Reading at least allows you to keep watch while guarding, but if you focus on chatting, you really won't even know how you died.

But the rooster clearly didn't think so—while William was calculating animal transformations, a rooster jumped onto the table and began pecking at the small print in the book.

William, who was reading a book, waved his hand. The mischievous rooster seemed to be lifted up by its legs by an invisible hand, and then floated towards the office. Instantly, its clucking sound echoed throughout half of the bathroom.

The chickens, which had been running around in the bathroom, suddenly panicked. Their clucking and chirping sounded like a chorus of authors, prompting William to quickly put down the mischievous rooster. This calmed the chickens down a bit, and they scattered and ran off to different corners of the bathroom.

The two professors who were guarding the room immediately looked towards the entrance, and only after finding no one there did they turn their attention to William.

"what happened?"

“A mischievous chicken jumped onto the table, but I chased it off.”

“Not pooping is already a good thing—” Adams shook his head, “That’s why animals are much more annoying than plants.”

He pulled out his wand and used it to clean the ground, removing chicken feathers and other debris, before continuing to peruse his cookbook.

"This is a bathroom, do you expect us to do anything else with it?"

Professor Taylor made a not-so-funny joke, and William and Adams smiled politely.

The conversation ended again, and William began to examine his hands—he had only wanted to move the chicken away from him, but a wave of his arm had cast a spell.

He tried hard to recapture that feeling, but he could never find it again.

Staffless spellcasting – the most useless high-end skill when used alone.

Magic is a wizard's best partner, the sharpest sword, and the strongest shield. Even a wizard who has mastered wandless spellcasting would not be foolish enough to give up their wand. However, wandless spellcasting is the most important sign that a wizard has reached the pinnacle of mastery and application of magic.

A wizard without a wand who tries to cast spells without a wand will most likely be slaughtered by a wizard with a wand, but if you give him a wand, he can take on ten of them. That's roughly the feeling.

'Still no clue, maybe a few more tries will do.'

William simply put down the book on transfiguration and began to fantasize—if another inspiration came his way, he might just seize it.

But as I was thinking, my thoughts drifted to the rooster.

'At the beginning of the school year, that girl named Ginny went to kill a chicken, and then Adams caught her…'

'Now there are so many more roosters on the field—is their blood really used for resurrection?'

...

Why was the door to the secret room opened only after Christmas, instead of earlier or later?

'The basilisk was afraid of roosters, and all the roosters died before Christmas—was it just for the sake of celebration, or was Hagrid tricked?'

"Ouch!" The noise at the door interrupted William's thoughts. Without thinking, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the entrance to the bathroom through the wall.

"Shift changed!" the man at the door shouted at them. "Who's set up a new trap?"

It was Professor Singid and the other two professors' shift change time.

"I'm a little confused, but it's alright." William slowly lowered his wand. "Go ask Hagrid who suggested it. I refuse to believe we can't catch him!"

-

In less than half an hour, William got the answer he wanted.

Although Hagrid was a little embarrassed to admit it, William managed to get the man's name through subtle probing.

Ron Weasley.

'Is this never going to end? Why is it all Weasley? Might as well make the murderer Weasley too—'

With these complaints, William arranged to meet Ron through Professor McGonagall. With the dean present, William was confident he could get some information out of him.

"What? You forgot?"

Under questioning from the two professors, Ron racked his brains for a long time before finally giving an answer that he couldn't think of.

“Weasley, this is an important matter, and I expect you not to keep it from anyone,” Professor McGonagall said, her sharp gaze making William a little nervous.

“I don’t remember, Professor,” Ron shook his head frantically. “It’s like my memories of that time have been erased by something. I’ve completely forgotten them. I can’t remember anything!”

His expression was quite pained, as if he had been hit on the head, and it was clear that he wasn't faking it.

William's eyes lit up—there were more messages he'd forgotten to give than he'd remembered!

Chapter 206 Another Investigation

'They've been taken away…'

In Lockhart's office, the professor, who usually spoke with a touch of arrogance, began to feel uneasy again.

Ron was taken away, on Professor William's orders.

He found out this while chatting with his students; it was one of his specialties.

But the news he found out didn't make him happy at all—he might not have been worried about anyone else, but William could find Ravenclaw's crown!

For years, countless people in Ravenclaw have been searching for that thing, but in the end, it was that guy who had only been at Hogwarts for a few days!

'Thank goodness, the memory has been erased, and nothing can be found.' He comforted himself, wanting to write something to calm down, but his hand holding the quill was trembling violently, and the quill tip drew messy marks on the parchment.

Inhale, exhale, Lockhart tried to calm himself down, but he couldn't write a single word.

"Reply to the letter, reply to the reader!"

He angrily moved the quill and parchment aside and began to open and read the letters.

"Dear Mr. Lockhart: "

"It's an honor to have won two copies of your books in this Daily Prophet's event..."

'The Daily Prophet's activities?'

Lockhart suddenly remembered: the autographed book giveaway—a Christmas event to maintain buzz.

“A keen reader,” Lockhart laughed, and continued reading.

"...So, could you send those books over in Galleons?"

Your loyal reader…”

Upon seeing the word "loyal," Lockhart could no longer bear it. He frantically pulled out his wand, tore the poor letter to shreds, and then threw the remains into the fireplace.

But after his anger subsided, he couldn't even figure out what he wanted to do anymore.