From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

He started flipping through the calendar, looking for a suitable time. It wouldn't be good to suddenly jump out and scare people, but it would be different if it were given the name of celebrating a holiday.

"Perfectly fitting, absolutely perfect, Valentine's Day is here!"

He quickly began to praise it—the next step was to ask someone to do it for him, but theoretically that shouldn't be difficult.

-

"How's your investigation going?"

In the lounge late at night, the Amnesiac Alliance gathered again.

“We’re starting to get ostracized,” Harry said weakly. “People are beginning to suspect we’re weird for putting strange stuff on ourselves. Percy even stopped us and talked to us for a whole hour, hoping we wouldn’t run around like that…”

"Come on..."

Ron, standing nearby, bluntly exposed Harry, "You've been loitering around the Ravenclaw entrance too much; their prefects have invited you to answer questions!"

"Shut up, Ron."

Have you identified any suspicious individuals during the investigation?

“Seven or eight people again today…” Harry and Ron handed the list to Hermione. “Does this thing even work?”

"Trust my judgment." Hermione took the list. "We have to continue tomorrow."

-

"Today is the sixth-grade class, we can begin."

Upon waking up in the morning, William felt guilty for a while before heading to the restaurant with the thick parchment.

Because the bag he was carrying was so thick, everyone saw it during the meal.

"Is today a sixth-grade class?"

"That's right, it's so thick, how many exam papers must that be..."

"Finally, they're going to target the sixth graders?"

……

The sixth graders, filled with anxiety, ate their breakfast without tasting it, their eyes frequently glancing at the teachers' table.

But class still had to be attended, and the group went to the classroom despite their fear.

"The exam is coming up. I don't care if I pass or fail, I have to get first place!"

Percy sat in the crowd, his face grave.

He won the precious Felix Felicis during the Christmas exam, which solidified his first-place ranking. Although the seventh graders and those who didn't stay at school weren't entirely convinced, he was quite happy to have earned the first-place title.

"We must be number one!"

However, even as the class was almost over, the professor still hadn't touched the paper package on the podium.

"What are you paying attention to?" The professor on the podium suddenly stopped—"Can a paper bag really distract you?"

"Although there are no major exams in sixth grade, this kind of mentality is not advisable."

However, after these few days, everyone has come to know that the smiling professor said we can ask questions freely when it comes to things unrelated to the main content.

"Professor, what's in the bag?"

"Just a little activity." William didn't keep him in suspense and opened the paper bag.

The paper binding was made of fine parchment, with beautiful patterns and some decorations—the school didn't provide it, so he had to buy it himself.

“The lesson is over. Everyone can write something on a piece of paper for the rest of the time,” William said, taking out a piece of paper to show. “You can sign it or leave it unsigned. You can give it to anyone in the castle. I will have some special messengers deliver the contents.”

"Professor, what if I write to Dumbledore?"

Someone has a question.

“Ah, this…” William looked at the student with a startled expression. “Then I’ll secretly take a look at the contents of the letter and then decide whether to deliver it or read it aloud.”

"Read aloud?"

"Oh, right, I forgot to mention, you can also choose how you present it, either a secret letter or reading it aloud—but if it's a secret letter, I suggest you do it yourselves, you need to be brave."

William smiled at the students, "Of course, the date is the one you've been thinking of. Alright, what are you waiting for? Start writing!"

Those who wrote it will definitely pass it on, and those who didn't will also pass it on—send an anonymous letter to whoever you suspect, and then see their reaction.

Believe it or not, I really received it!

'We can compile a list of suspects when we get back.'

-

"Have you heard? Professor William has actually decided to use parchment for something else!"

"I thought it was just exam papers!"

"That's right. By the way, do any of you have anything you want to write?"

No, no.

The speaker shook his head, ignoring the draft he had prepared yesterday.

"That's true, we need to pay attention to the OWLs exam."

Those who echoed the sentiment ignored the words that had been pondered for so long in the book.

After much anticipation, Professor William finally arrived, carrying that same large, thick paper package that made one want to write something on it.

'You can write anonymously! Who should I write to?'

Is writing to two people a bit greedy? Will I get criticized?

I bought six pieces of calligraphy of the same size yesterday. I hope they won't be noticed if I stuff them all in together.

“It’s great that everyone is so energetic,” William said with a smile as he opened the package. “While we’re all in such high spirits, let’s have a test!”

A thick stack of test papers was taken out and placed on the table.

"Ding!"

"Ding!"

...

"Ding!"

Chapter 210 It's okay, I'll wait for you.

The chives, which had been growing for more than half a year, were growing quite well. Even when the test papers were handed out and the children started doing the questions with expressions of deep resentment, it didn't affect William's occasional 'ding' notifications.

'Let's take a look. The quality of the boxes seems to be related to talent.'

William sat on the podium and began sorting the boxes—the fifth-grade students had been taking exams for more than half a year. William wasn't confident in his other subjects, but he knew exactly how talented these kids were in the self-defense class he taught.

'We'll save the boxes provided by those gifted students for when we test Felix Felicis later,' William said, making a simple classification before starting to lavishly open the boxes one by one.

'Why are there so many white cards…'

William glanced at it; the skills on the white cards were all quite uniform…

[Possibility for young people: Tearing up this card has a certain probability of allowing those who didn't choose to open the treasure chest and draw again.]

'It can be considered a skill... As for the probability... if you can guarantee a pity pull in a ten-pull, then it's not a loss...'

William shook his head and counted the cards. Among the pile of white cards, there were three meal vouchers, which was considered a good thing. As for the other white cards, they were all based on probability. There was a chance to successfully make a potion, a chance to use a Quake Ball to knock the opponent off their broom, and so on. They were all random and not as good as the chance of the young man.

"You've been a professor for a year now, don't you know how talented your students are? Be content..."

William shook his head, collected the papers, and handed out parchment as well. "Alright, the exam is over. Compile a list of what you need to say and write. Take it easy and don't focus too much on it. This year is the year of OWLs, and you don't have much time to think about anything else!"

'The teacher-student relationship still needs to be maintained,' William said, looking at the students below who couldn't hide their joy. He finally gave up on finishing his last sentence.

'It would be too cruel to tell them that this is the last time they can enjoy a holiday like this, and that the homework assigned by professors during Easter and Spring Break will crush them…'

-

"Your suggestion is excellent, Professor William!"

The ghost sitting opposite William exclaimed, "We're the ones who give them our blessings on Valentine's Day, scaring them while telling them how wonderful love and humanity are. God, why didn't I have a professor like that when I was alive?"

“But it’s not too late now,” she said earnestly, looking at William. “I finally understand why some people choose to continue; it must be because you led them to discover so much more beauty…”

This made William a little embarrassed—most of the ghosts who chose to continue had convinced themselves to keep going, and he had simply listened attentively to their stories.

“Then goodbye, Professor William.” The ghost rose and bowed. “Thank you for your Galleons. We will use this money to help more wizards fall in love with this world.”

“Thank you for your trouble,” William replied with a smile. “I will apply for all the necessary procedures with the school as soon as possible and notify them by owl.”

“Yes, still the same address,” the ghostly woman said goodbye, drifting out from behind the wall of William’s office.

Halfway down the river, she suddenly turned around as if she remembered something, looked at William with a serious expression.

"By the way, Professor William, would you mind being the vice-director of our theater troupe?"

"This... I'm afraid it's inappropriate." William hesitated for a moment, then quickly declined—what a joke! That was a ghost choir. Although their singing was highly praised by both ghosts and normal wizards, what kind of impression would it make of a living person like me getting involved...?

“It’s alright, we can wait,” the ghost who came to discuss business said with an even more serious expression. “I believe that someone as passionate about life as you will accept our philosophy after you die. Even if you live to be two hundred years old, it’s not even two hundred years. Our choir has a history of seven hundred years.”

"We know it's hard for you to accept right now, but that's okay. We have plenty of time to wait for you to make a decision..."

William was momentarily speechless...

"Sorry, sorry," seeing William suddenly at a loss for words, the ghost salesman finally realized the terrible thing he had said. "Sorry, Professor William, that's not what I meant. Anyway, take your time to think about it... no... goodbye, see you on Valentine's Day!"

She hurriedly ran through the wall, leaving William completely bewildered.

"No, I remember we were just having a normal business discussion. I'd provide Galleons, you'd provide manpower, and we'd all happily get the job done. Why did it suddenly turn into a discussion about two hundred years in the future?!"

Thanks to his reputation among ghosts, he easily managed to book a song group that was quite famous among ghosts and loved to praise life—it was almost entirely made up of artistic ghosts who felt that the human world was too beautiful and were afraid that if they continued on, they would never see the spring flowers and autumn moon.

Choosing a ghost was something he had considered long ago—no one could offer a blessing more suddenly than a ghost, so he could truly investigate the first reaction of the person receiving his unique gift.

Moreover, even if the murderer discovers that he has given himself away, it doesn't matter, because at least within William's knowledge, there is no wizard who can kill a ghost.

'Unless Dumbledore intervenes personally... or the Dark Lord recovers to his best condition, there's a chance...'

William pondered and began to compose poems for those key targets he was keeping watch on.

But William soon realized that he simply didn't have that skill level.