From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

William shook his head, indicating that this year's students were truly the most difficult to manage ever.

"Of course, of course—the two of them also stole my Niffler, with very precise skill, and I didn't even realize I was missing one until they returned it."

...Sometimes, you're just as carefree as Hagrid.

The two chatted about interesting things at school for a long time before finally remembering their business.

"Oh right, I almost forgot, we're here to identify the guardian spirits!"

"I forgot too..."

William chuckled ingratiatingly, then pulled out his wand and began summoning his Patronus in the corner.

When the little bird was summoned, the old professor focused his attention on it.

"Hmm, this looks like it, this spot... it's a hummingbird."

The old professor said with certainty.

"Hummingbird?"

“A small bird that feeds on nectar,” the old professor examined carefully. “It’s not a magical creature, but there aren’t any like it in Britain now.”

He shook his head. "If it's a magical creature, it's worthy of a whole article. Magical creature guardians are quite rare. Albus's was one—his magical creature was a phoenix, which looked a lot like Fawkes."

“Make it fly, William.”

William readily agreed, and the little bird hovered in the air, just as he had seen before.

"That's it. You see, it can levitate and make a slight buzzing sound—if it weren't a guardian spirit, the sound would be even louder."

"Even without its original vibrant colors, it's still beautiful, isn't it?"

Once the old professor started talking about his professional knowledge, he couldn't stop. After half a day of explanation, he smiled at William.

“It looks just like you, William.”

"Ok?"

"It has a particular fondness for sweets, which, along with its buzzing sound, is the origin of its name."

The old professor finished speaking and laughed heartily. "It's getting late, I have to leave, William, otherwise I'll inevitably drink again. Old Tom's tavern doesn't just let in sober customers, but the doctor has already sent a warning that if I drink again they'll notify Albus."

"See you then, little William."

The old professor left before nightfall—just as he said, if he didn't leave soon, old Tom would take out his treasured possessions.

-

"Professor, can wizards fight on flying broomsticks?"

After finishing his daily training, Harry suddenly asked this question.

Fighting while riding a flying broomstick?

William was taken aback. He could use a flying broom, but that was the limit when he could control the direction with both hands—he didn't have much talent for it.

Furthermore, it's impossible for anyone in Azkaban to fight using flying brooms.

Although there are all sorts of criminals, most of the people riding flying brooms are smugglers, so there is really no flying broom combat technique.

This is very easy to understand—for smugglers, there are only two states of a flying broom.

Empty brooms and brooms full of smuggled goods.

In the previous situation, you could just ride away—there's no money to be made and no one would attack you randomly. Most of the people who would fight would be the Ministry of Magic's enforcers. If you don't run away and fight back, you'll just be waiting to end up in Azkaban, right?

Fighting when the cargo is fully loaded is even less feasible. A broom full of goods can be wiped out with a single spell, which neither side would want. At most, they can use it as a deterrent before fighting on the ground.

If you can't win, just deliver the goods or run away; the result is the same anyway.

"How did you come up with that question, Harry?"

William looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Well, it's not entirely impossible. Theoretically speaking, if you can cast spells in mid-air and force your opponent to stop, then fighting on a broomstick is quite normal."

"However, if I remember correctly, some magic can prevent flight, just like spells that prevent apparition."

"In that situation, flying actually became a disadvantage."

"More importantly, for most wizards, Apparition is the best way to save their lives, and riding a broom means you have completely given up Apparition—apparition on a broom is something that probably only Dumbledore could do, right?"

"Not even fire crossbow bolts?"

"Fire bolts?"

William paused, recalling an advertisement he'd seen in the Daily Prophet. "No, even the most sophisticated broom won't work. Anti-fly magic is difficult, but it's too targeted."

“I have never seen a wizard who can fly without any external aids,” William shook his head. “Black magic won’t work either.”

"Not even black magic, Professor?"

“Of course, don’t think of black magic as too amazing,” William nodded. “For most wizards, it’s just an offensive spell with more side effects. If someone really does it, then the amazing thing is not black magic, but the wizard himself.”

"I see, Professor, I understand."

"You're not planning to cast a spell on another team with a broom, are you? I remember that's against the rules."

"Today's training was very effective," William joked happily.

"Of course not, that would be a serious violation. I was just thinking about whether I could train myself to dodge magic with a broom—I think I could improve in that area."

"Hmm, I can consider it."

William nodded – the flying broomstick training method can be included in the training program.

Training at that speed might be more effective.

"The day after tomorrow, I'll go prepare the venue."

Chapter 258 Summer Vacation Nears its End

"Harry!"

When Harry went to the Quidditch shop to look at the Firebolt as usual, he suddenly thought he heard Ron's voice.

Are you hallucinating?

Harry thought about it, but couldn't help looking in the direction the sound came from.

When he saw a familiar red hair, Ron's shout rang out again.

"Harry, you're over here!"

Ron shouted happily, then ran over to Harry and gave him a big hug.

Harry hesitated for a moment before suppressing his urge to dodge and accepting the hug—not because he disliked Ron, but because his training had given him an instinctive reaction to anything moving quickly.

"Ron, didn't you say you were going to stay there until school starts soon?"

While happy, Harry couldn't help but feel a little confused. In their last correspondence, Ron had said he would stay a while longer.

"what?"

Ron looked at Harry with a doubtful expression. "School starts in a week, Harry, what are you thinking about?"

"School starts in a week?"

Harry looked bewildered. "No way, time flies by so fast? School's starting already?"

"Don't you check the date, Harry?"

Ron's question made Harry quickly recall his experiences over the past few days—running, training, then going out for a stroll, going back to read and do his homework, sleeping until dawn, and then repeating the same routine as the previous day.

"So much time has passed?"

“What do you mean, ‘so long’?” Ron was a little confused. He looked at Harry. “What are you talking about? But you seem to have grown a bit taller lately…”

"Too high?"

Harry paused for a moment, then looked at himself through the glass—just as Ron had said, he was indeed a little taller and slightly stronger.

He was originally a little shorter than Ron, but now he's about the same height as Ron when they stand together.

"It seems so, but it's nothing, probably just from the training we've been doing lately."

Harry shook his head. "You're here to buy textbooks today?"

“Not really… how should I put it, we arrived at Diagon Alley earlier than Dad originally planned,” he scratched his head. “Percy got into big trouble, and then he was recognized by Dad’s friend, so we came back a little earlier than expected.”

“Percy?” Harry suddenly thought of their prefect, the rigid and boring one who always did things the proper way—he’d gotten himself into big trouble.

“Yes, I can’t even imagine it…” Ron lowered his voice slightly, “but his hair is so noticeable, and he’s standing at the very front…”

"Stand at the very front?"

“Yes…” Ron’s voice dropped even lower. “Dad said that Percy beat up Gringotts’ team, even taking down three of their former strikers. When those guys came back to get reinforcements, someone recognized Percy.”

“I still don’t quite understand, Ron.”

“I don’t understand either,” Ron spread his hands and lowered his voice, “Anyway, I heard that Gringotts team is involved in smuggling or something…and they seem to be working for someone…but I don’t understand that, anyway, Dad doesn’t let me talk about it.”

"Okay, I don't really understand either, so what happened to Percy in the end?"

“It’s nothing. Percy didn’t break any laws, it’s just that someone’s trying to trap him—Dad said so.” Ron scratched his head. “And it seems Rufus Scrimgeour admires him and wants to give him Auror training ahead of time…”

"Rufus Scrimgeour? Who is he?"

Harry was completely confused, whether it was Percy's mess or anything else.

“The head of the Auror office has a lot of prestige in the Ministry of Magic,” Ron explained. “Dad is very happy, but Mom isn’t so happy—she thinks Percy shouldn’t try to be an Auror.”

The two talked for a long time about something neither of them understood, and eventually the topic turned to the fire crossbow bolts.

This was a great topic—the two talked about it for the entire afternoon.

From the craftsmanship of the Firebolt to the customization of their team, to speculation about the price of the broom and its maintenance, there was so much to talk about—which made Harry very happy.

Because Professor William doesn't seem to like flying brooms, and his understanding of Quidditch is only superficial...

During this period of broom training, I also used a worn-out broom to sweep across seven stars...

It wasn't until they were saying goodbye that Ron asked about Harry's holiday.

"What? The person next to you is Professor William?"

"Do you train every day...?"