From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

That shouldn't be the case. Those guys can clearly tell how to communicate just by looking at each other. If you occasionally encounter a troublemaker, it's just a matter of flipping through books in the library.

Or is this the difference between attending classes and raising animals?

He was a little confused.

William is trustworthy, and both Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall speak highly of his teaching, making William's teaching doubly trustworthy.

Although he was a bit slow on the uptake, Hagrid decided to humbly ask for advice.

"This is too complicated, William. Is there an easier way? I want to be a good professor."

“Yes,” William nodded, “we’ll set up exam papers.”

Chapter 251 Your professors are really good

"Damn it, what a stupid thing I did..."

Harry sat on a low wall, pulling his suitcase, his heart filled with a mixture of fear and anger, with occasional moments of regret, but these were quickly dispelled by his lingering rage.

"She deserved it."

Recalling the so-called Aunt Petunia, Harry remained certain of his opinion.

But no matter how you look at what just happened, he is now in a rather awkward situation.

To be precise, he never imagined that one day he would find himself in such a predicament—nowhere to go, homeless.

Spellcasting is not allowed during student holidays, and he had already been warned last year. This year's violation means that he has not only lost his right to attend Hogwarts, but also that he is very likely to go to Azkaban.

'Azkaban.'

Harry shuddered. Ever since it was revealed last year that Professor William came from Azkaban, rumors about Azkaban had been circulating among the students for a long time.

Although many students wrote letters to the professor, encouraged by their seniors, this did not stop them from discussing the prison together.

The terrifying Dementors, the deserted island with no escape route, and the layers of mist shrouding Azkaban kept a group of students talking excitedly.

"Azkaban..."

Harry took a breath. "Even Professor William couldn't escape Azkaban?"

He tried hard not to recall the image of the professor swiftly decapitating the basilisk with a single spell. If even a professor of that strength couldn't escape Azkaban, then his own escape was nothing but a joke.

"With Hedwig not here, I can't ask Hermione or Ron for help."

Harry tried to do as the professor had suggested in the Chamber of Secrets: analyze the problem thoroughly before delivering a fatal blow.

"All I can rely on now is my wand and the magic I've studied for two years..."

"That's not enough, what else do I have?"

He muttered to himself, trying to find some useful trump cards.

What did that professor say in the secret room?

Although he tried to forget that memory, the feeling of uncovering everything and breaking the deadlock made Harry subconsciously want to imitate it.

Suddenly, a sentence popped into Harry's mind.

"But if this prosecution is successful, the warning you received last year will be removed, so even if you violate the rules again by using magic, you'll only receive a warning first—"

It was that professor who said it!

He said that if the prosecution against Dobby is successful, he will only be warned instead of being dealt with directly the next time he casts a spell!

"That's how it is, that's how it is."

Harry nearly jumped up, if the professor hadn't lied to him...

No, no, no, the professor wouldn't lie to me.

He shook off that thought and began desperately trying to recall any information about the professor—perhaps he could still find something helpful.

"Oh, right, Hermione!"

"Hermione said that the professor took her to Hogsmeade on the Knight Bus, and then to Hogwarts."

"I can take the Knight Bus, and then... where does that professor live?"

Harry discovers that he has no idea where his third person seeking help is located.

"Hagrid said so! Hagrid said he often drinks with Professor William at the Leaky Cauldron during his holidays, and you can find the professor there!"

With that in mind, Harry immediately extended his wand and, following Hermione's instructions, began to summon the Knight Bus.

-

By fabricating lies and disguising his identity, Ha successfully used his pre-prepared story to reach Diagon Alley via the Knight Bus.

However, just as he carefully got off the Knight bus, a pair of hands landed on his shoulders.

"You've arrived, Harry."

An unfamiliar voice, a familiar name.

Harry, who had been prepared, drew his wand almost instantly, shouting, "Expelliarmus!"

The wand flew up almost instantly, and the person who was patting Harry's shoulder was struck by the spell, staggering back a few steps before regaining their footing.

But Harry hadn't made any plans for what would happen next. He glanced back and froze.

Although it was still summer, Harry felt like he was being soaked in ice water.

He was indeed unfamiliar with the voice, but he recognized the face—whether it was the visit of the face's owner at Hogwarts or the photos he saw in the newspapers, it clearly indicated the visitor's identity.

Cornelius Fudge.

To be precise, the current Minister of Magic's biggest rival, Malfoy, loves to boast about one thing: "My dad dined with the Minister of Magic again..."

Although Harry wasn't particularly politically savvy, he still subconsciously felt that he was doing terribly wrong.

Attack the Minister of Magic…

“Nice disarming spell, Harry.”

The Minister of Magic, who was hit, was not angry at all. After pausing for a moment, he laughed heartily.

What happened next felt like magic to Harry.

The Minister of Magic seemed completely unconcerned about a student casting spells off-campus. He warmly led him into the Leaky Cauldron, took him to a private room, and kindly asked the pub owner, Old Tom, to prepare food and drinks.

“I don’t care if you know, Harry, you’ve given us a real scare. Running away from your aunt and uncle’s house like that! I was worried… but the important thing is that you’re alright.”

The Minister of Magic explained to him with a smile while eating a regular flatbread.

“Eat up, Harry. You don’t look too good. Now we can happily talk about how we resolved Miss Maggie’s unfortunate inflation.”

The Minister of Magic smiled at Harry from the edge of his teacup, like an uncle looking at his beloved nephew.

The entire conversation felt magical to Harry, but in the end, there were no problems.

The Ministry of Magic acted, erasing everything—both the damage and the memories.

"Alright, Harry, it's getting late, you should go to sleep," Fudge said patiently to Harry as the pleasant conversation came to an end. "Get a small room here for the rest of your holiday. Everything will be alright, and you can still go home next summer."

"And what about my punishment...?"

Although he knew he shouldn't ask, Harry couldn't help but ask anyway.

“Oh, my dear child, we won’t punish you for such a trivial matter!” Fudge responded dramatically. “That was an accident! We won’t send people to Azkaban just because they’re inflating Auntie!”

"As for that Disarming Charm, well," Fudge chuckled, "it was fantastic. I look forward to you becoming an Auror at the Ministry of Magic after you graduate. Seriously, your Dark Magic—oh, now the Self-Defense Magic Professor—is really great; he's discovered your talent. That was just a little joke, we don't care, do we?"

Although the Disarming Charm was Professor Lockhart's, Harry didn't say anything.

Although everything was strange, the result was better than he had expected—but he still felt that something was off.

Why would someone as important as Fudge get involved in his use of magic?

In the distance, Fudge's voice came again, "Professor William lives here too? That's great, I think we need to have a talk..."

Chapter 252 Let the striker give him a warning

"Minister, it's already this late, should we wake Professor William up for a talk?"

“It’s not ideal,” Fudge said with a humble expression, “but Harry will be staying here for a while, so we’ll have to trouble Professor William.”

"Alright, I'll try to wake him up."

Old Tom hesitated for a moment, and was about to go and call William, but Fudge stopped him.

“I’ll go myself. It would be too impolite to disturb a professor in the middle of the night,” Fudge said with a smile, heading towards the stairs.

The Leaky Cauldron is quite famous in the wizarding world. When it was almost demolished at the end of the 19th century, a group of wizards worked together to cast various spells on the land, successfully making it disappear from the Muggle map.

For this reason alone, he was very willing to give his boss the respect he deserved.

"It's better not to," Old Tom said, getting a little anxious. The Minister of Magic had already done a great job of catching Harry safely in the middle of the night, so they couldn't let him be attacked in his own pub, could they?

“William,” old Tom said carefully, “he’s quite vigilant. Last time someone came to visit without warning, the two of them got into a fight and my bar was almost torn down.”

"Tear down the bar?" Fudge responded half-jokingly and half-seriously. "Is there such a reckless wizard? Should we send him a warning letter? Using magic indiscriminately in Diagon Alley is not a legal thing."

“However, to prevent the bar from being demolished again, I’ll have to trouble you,” Fudge humorously changed the subject. “Please wake Professor William up, old Tom, time is running out.”

“Yes, Minister,” Old Tom said, heading upstairs. “I will explain the importance of this to Professor William.”

As they walked down the hallway, old Tom, unusually, didn't knock on the door. Instead, he called out from a distance, tilting his head towards William's room, "William! William! Someone's looking for you!"

The shouting was so loud that it woke up the people drinking downstairs before it even woke William.

"Old Tom! It's the middle of the night, don't you want your bar anymore?"

The disturbed man, still drunk, joked, "Professor Dumbledore isn't here right now, and we don't have any professional repairmen—ah, Minister! Hello, Minister!"

The man who was joking saw Fudge and quickly greeted him.

“Hello, don’t worry about me,” Fudge said with his signature smile. “I’m just here to handle some business. It’s after get off work hours now, so don’t be so nervous.”

"Yes, Minister, yes, Minister, no, I mean, I understand, Minister."

The half-drunk man stammered in response.

“Go back and have a drink. You should have some fun after get off work,” he reassured the half-drunk man, then casually asked, “Albus, I mean Professor Dumbledore, was he here a few days ago?”