From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

Although he was still in a daze, he instinctively picked up his wand and cast a sleeping spell on the doorway.

But the spell failed.

It wasn't that it deviated from its course, nor was it blocked by protective spells like the Ironclad Curse. Rather, it was like something that had sunk into a quagmire, completely swallowed up without even a sound.

This unusual event immediately alerted William, who almost instantly snapped out of his daze and unleashed a Split Spell at the window.

"Crack!"

The sound of shattering glass echoed throughout the room. The instant the sound reverberated, William slammed himself against the wall. He cast an Ironclad Charm on himself and simultaneously unleashed a Split Charm at the wall.

'No time for the Bubble Head Spell.'

William closed his eyes tightly, and relying on his familiarity with his room, he cast a Split Spell towards the window, then rolled to the window.

He flung the strip of cloth in his hand, pulled himself toward the windowsill, and then rolled over the broken glass shards and shattered window frame, plummeting directly to the ground below.

Almost instantly, he cast a levitation spell on himself, then released the cloth strip and unleashed a black magic spell towards the original window.

Without confirming whether he had been hit by the spell or seeing what kind of damage the dark magic had caused, William directly cast a transformation spell on his pajamas, changing the style of the clothes and incidentally conjuring up a pair of shoes for himself.

"I should run. He's incredibly strong. If I run, he'll hunt me down. But if I fight him head-on here, firstly, I don't know if he has reinforcements, and secondly, I might end up killing everyone in the hotel."

With this thought in mind, William left and ran towards the wall in Diagon Alley—he could apparite into any blind spot he could find.

"Good heavens, Professor William... you're not planning to leave me to fix the house all by myself, are you...?"

Dumbledore's voice suddenly rang out from above, and William instinctively dodged while glancing over the Bubble Head Charm.

Yes... it's Dumbledore.

William, who was prepared to flee, was suddenly stunned.

"This joke is not funny at all, Professor Dumbledore..."

For the first time ever, he shrugged, lowering the hand holding the wand to his side, but still gripping the wand firmly in his hand.

“My dear Professor William, I think you’d better come up here and talk to me—if the house isn’t fixed soon, old Tom will really get angry.”

As Dumbledore stuck his head out and told lame jokes, he waved his hand, and all the windows and panes that William had smashed floated up and, under the power of magic, returned to their original state.

'It shouldn't be a fake,' William thought for a moment, and finally decided to take a small risk. He took out spare clothes from the bag and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron while no one else was wearing them.

However, the lower level of the bar was now completely empty—three loud bangs in succession woke up even those who were sleeping like logs, let alone those who had the energy to hang out in the bar early in the morning.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Hello, Principal."

...

All sorts of people crowded into William's room, greeting Dumbledore.

Old Tom, meanwhile, stood there happily, completely forgetting his original rule that guests not staying at the hotel should not go upstairs.

"Good morning."

"Yes, yes, the school is great, and the professors are great too."

"School won't start for a while yet."

"Yes, I like that one too."

Dumbledore smiled very kindly, answering questions from the onlookers. When he saw William, he smiled apologetically at the crowd, "Excuse me, everyone, I have some personal matters to attend to today. I need to have a proper conversation with Professor William. That's all for today, okay?"

He smiled as he looked at everyone on the field, and those who had come to watch had no intention of lingering. They all bid farewell to Dumbledore and left, heading downstairs.

Of course, it's easy to imagine that for the next day, or even several days, the topic of conversation at the Leaky Cauldron would be my time at Hogwarts and what Dumbledore had told me while I was there.

"Some hot chocolate, Professor Dumbledore?"

Old Tom's face lit up with a smile. "Or mead?"

“A little of everything, Tom,” Dumbledore replied gently, “but please bring it a little later, as Professor William and I have something to discuss.”

"No problem, Professor Dumbledore."

Old Tom went off to make chocolates with a cheerful smile, leaving William bewildered.

It's no wonder he was confused—Dumbledore came over early in the morning, disturbing his sleep, and even helped him dismantle half of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Is there something urgent, Principal?"

William sat down and asked curiously.

"Today is the day the grades are released, Professor William." Dumbledore said earnestly, making it impossible to believe that this white-haired, long-bearded wizard was actually the number one white wizard in the magical world.

"Scores are coming out? Oh my god, I thought it was at the end of the month..."

William paused for a moment, then almost hit himself—he hadn't been paying much attention to this lately because he was in a bad mood.

Of course, the main reason was that Professor Marchban, the head of the examination authority in charge of grading the papers, had informed him in advance, and he was relieved to know that his grades were good.

“It will likely reach the students soon, but the school must have known in advance,” Dumbledore’s smile grew even more gentle. “Excellent, Professor William—I would even say that sending you the offer letter was the best decision Hogwarts made last year.”

"All passed. All students received certificates in Magical Self-Defense, and more than 80% of the candidates received an E or O grade."

Or are 20% just A?

Two-tenths of the students barely passed... Despite the massive amount of practice questions, not everyone got an E.

As the thought crossed his mind, William couldn't help but blame himself for being too greedy.

"This is the best result Hogwarts has achieved in the last fifty years, and if we consider this course alone, it is the best result in the last three hundred years."

Dumbledore's face was full of praise. "And it's not just the OWls results, the NEWT results are also quite impressive. Because the Self-Defense Skills results were good this year, the Auror Office approved the applications of four students, and the employment rate related to this certificate has also been increased by five percent."

"That's because they worked hard themselves," William said, feeling embarrassed to take credit. Most of their seventh-grade studies were done through self-study, and he only provided a little bit of help.

"You're too modest, Professor William."

Dumbledore chuckled and handed over a letter and a book.

"The letter contained a notice from the school regarding salary increases. Professor McGonagall originally intended to mail it by owl, but I brought it along."

Dumbledore explained with a smile, then his expression turned serious. "This book is quite important, Professor William. Please do not spread the knowledge within, and especially do not let anyone else touch it."

Chapter 249 Grades are the Best Weather Forecast

What's all this mysterious stuff...?

However, there weren't many things that could keep Dumbledore mysterious, so William was quite curious and took out his gloves, put them on, and began to look through them under Dumbledore's gaze.

Trusting the principal, he didn't take out a second pair of gloves.

The book was small, just a tiny volume, not enough to copy down even a few incantations.

However, its style is quite distinctive; it's clearly a book of dark magic.

William turned to the first page and froze.

This book... is enough to keep Azkaban occupied for life.

Turning past the title page and other contents, the book's actual content is—the Unforgivable Curse.

What William saw was the most vicious torture spell, the Cruciatus Curse.

"The Unforgivable Curse?"

William glanced at Dumbledore, then thought back to the time and, confirming it wasn't April Fool's Day, asked the question.

"Yes, the Unforgivable Curse."

Dumbledore looked at William. "Professor William, you should know very well what advanced wizarding self-defense classes teach in the upper grades (note)."

"Of course. There are even papers on the reactions of people who are under the Unforgivable Curse. I searched the campus at the time, but there was no relevant information."

William recalled his lesson preparation process and gave a fairly certain reply.

“I’ve put it away; this kind of thing isn’t suitable for students to see,” Dumbledore said, pointing to the book in William’s hand. “But a Hogwarts professor can’t be someone who doesn’t even know the Unforgivable Curse, so I came here specifically to give him this book.”

As if considering William's concerns, Dumbledore then added, "It is endorsed by the relevant laws of the Ministry of Magic, of course, it cannot be used on people."

...

Is my fear of returning to Azkaban so obvious that it's written all over my face?

Of course, it wasn't appropriate to ask that question directly. Dumbledore smiled and didn't say much. After drinking hot chocolate and mead, Dumbledore bid farewell to old Tom and left the Leaky Cauldron, seemingly busy with something.

"Little William?"

Old Tom looked at William, who had slumped weakly on the table after Dumbledore left, and asked with concern.

"It's alright, I'm fine, old Tom, let me catch my breath."

William's voice came through the gap between his arms.

He used to smuggle goods directly into Azkaban, but now, with the Unforgivable Curse in hand, nothing happens—the shock to his life is too great for him to accept.

"It's alright, it's alright. At least you got out of Hogwarts safely, right? Getting expelled is getting expelled. Dumbledore even came in person. Don't be so upset. It's just that you were reported. It's not your fault..."

Old Tom didn't leave. He sat down next to William and comforted him, "He was a professor who taught there for a year, after all. Now that he has a title, let's look on the bright side. Who knows, maybe the price of potions will go up a notch in the future."

???

What are you saying, old Tom?

William looked up at him with a puzzled expression, and casually opened the letter on the table—although the trip to the Far East had yielded a lot, the Gallon was indeed running out of money. Although his salary was sufficient, it couldn't keep up with such expenses.

Not bad, the monthly salary increase is quite encouraging.

"Not a termination notice?"

“Of course not,” William said, his mood improving. “And another hot chocolate, old Tom, just the same.”

"No, the bar doesn't sell that!"

"Hannah will be my student next year!"

William learned some rather unusual things during the summer vacation.

"Half a cup! That's the limit!"

"Okay, half a cup."

William readily accepted the good advice.