From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

Hagrid chased after it for a few steps, but immediately gave up—although he was confident he could catch that damned, ungrateful dog in the Forbidden Forest, leaving the young cub alone there was the biggest concern…anyway, he couldn't abandon his student.

-

"Don't come any closer, I'm checking!"

Harry called out to all the students, then anxiously crouched down beside Ron, suppressing his fear and other indescribable emotions, and began to examine Ron's wounds.

'If only I had discovered it sooner, or gotten away from Hagrid… no, I shouldn't be thinking this.'

Harry quickly cleared his mind of all his chaotic thoughts, held his wand steadily in his right hand, and began to tear Ron's wizard robes apart.

Ron, who was unconscious, was not moving and appeared to be severely injured.

'He'll be alright, he'll definitely be alright…'

With that thought in mind, Harry held his wand quite steadily.

Wizard robes are not easy to destroy, and Harry dared not increase the power of the spell for fear of causing secondary damage.

'call…'

The September weather was hot and dry, and sweat quickly streamed from his forehead to the corners of his eyes. Harry managed to take his first step with difficulty, just before the first drop of sweat almost fell into his eye.

A large, bloody mass immediately appeared in front of him, and it was even alive and kicking...

"Heavens, what kind of curse is this—wait?"

Harry immediately realized something was wrong. It wasn't a curse, but a rat—Scabbers, the rat Ron had been carrying around.

Its tail and half of its rump were gone, along with its left hind leg. It was struggling, covered in blood, but it seemed to be terrified and couldn't even let out a scream.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't feel pain. It struggles violently from time to time, causing more blood to flow from its wound, and then lies there lifelessly, its eyes, half-stained with blood, almost devoid of any light.

After noticing that Scabbers was covered in blood, Harry immediately looked at Ron's clothes.

There was a lot of blood on it, but strangely, there weren't any serious injuries—the injuries were so minor that Harry even suspected Ron had just accidentally fallen and gotten some scrapes…

"call…"

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Although he knew very well that losing another leg wouldn't be a serious injury, he was still relieved to see that Ron hadn't lost half a leg or anything.

"How is he?"

As Harry looked up, a question arose from the crowd.

"It's alright, just a scratch."

"He must have done something stupid to get bitten... It's really... Ouch!"

Harry heard shouts coming from the chaos nearby.

"You idiot, how dare you!"

There was another sound of fists hitting something, followed by even greater chaos, as if more people had joined the fray.

Harry and Ron were in the crowd, and almost everyone tacitly avoided disturbing them.

After Harry checked that Ron was alright, he then examined Scabbers again.

-

"Stop it, everyone! What are you doing?!"

Hagrid's voice boomed in everyone's ears, and all the children who were happily playing around stopped obediently.

They had the courage to fight, but they decided against it in front of the professor. Almost everyone stopped what they were doing as soon as possible, whether they were hitting or being hit. Only a few children under the control spell couldn't stop, but they quickly stood up with the help of the other students.

The children who came out clean were completely changed after the brawl—they weren't very good at magic, but they hadn't forgotten the fighting skills that were popular in the first and second grades. The children in the center of the chaos almost all had mixed injuries, but none of them were serious.

Everyone kept their heads down, not daring to lose their temper. Although Hagrid usually didn't have much authority in the eyes of these third-year students, his roar just now had left an indelible mark on everyone's minds.

Of course, the more important reason is that, although they don't say it, they believe that Hagrid is indeed their professor, the professor of magical creature conservation.

'Next step...'

Hagrid hesitated for a moment, then looked at Harry. "Harry, how's Ron? How are you?"

"Ron has a scrape and needs treatment... and some spots..."

Harry tried to keep his speech from becoming too incoherent, but it was difficult to do.

'Spotted is doomed...it shielded Ron again.'

Although he knew perfectly well that even without his freckles, Ron would at most go to the hospital, this feeling still surfaced—he could now understand why Ron valued his freckles so much.

'If there were no freckles…'

“Let me take a look…” Hagrid muttered, then carefully stepped to Ron’s side, squatted down, bent over, and began to examine Ron’s wound.

"We still need to take it to the vet; after all, it used to be a stray dog..."

Hagrid muttered to himself, though his muttering wasn't quiet.

“Let’s go to the hospital,” Hagrid said, carefully lifting Ron onto a plank of wood, barely touching his wound.

Harry hesitated for a moment, "Sorry, Hagrid, what about Scabbers..."

“We can’t take Scabbers to the hospital,” Hagrid said after a slight hesitation. “Mrs. Pomfrey would never allow any pets in her hospital, let alone rats.”

"But it just saved Ron!"

Harry felt he was being a little unreasonable.

But Hagrid hesitated for a moment, "Go try Professor William... Although Professor Snape's healing potion would be better, but..."

Even though Hagrid didn't finish the sentence, Harry knew what came next.

If he were really foolish enough to give a rat to Snape for treatment, Snape would probably make a potion out of Scabbers and force-feed it to him.

'Professor William can cure it, right? But it's just…'

Harry suddenly felt a chill, and after trying to dismiss the thought, he answered loudly.

"Yes, Hagrid!"

Harry responded hastily and ran straight to William's office—he was sorry he couldn't take Ron to the hospital, but he believed Ron wouldn't have any objections even if he were awake.

Ron would only get truly angry if he didn't go to save Scabbers.

"Class dismissed. Everyone return to the castle," Hagrid said, holding the plank with Ron on it in one hand. "Don't even think about going to the Forbidden Forest. Tooth will stop you, and everyone caught will have fifty points deducted from the House."

He finally remembered the point deduction—after announcing this, Hagrid carefully carried Ron toward the castle, leaving the children with bruised and battered faces behind.

The students who were left behind looked at each other and finally gave up on continuing the fight—they were lucky enough not to be locked up; if Hagrid remembered them, they would have to clean toilets.

After a good time fighting, everyone calmed down a bit and realized how close they were to being put in solitary confinement.

Gryffindor and Slytherin stood in two opposing rows, glaring at each other fiercely before dispersing.

Chapter 294 William's Fury

Harry came running up to William's office.

He almost forgot to knock, but just as he was about to enter, he remembered and shouted, "Professor William, help!"

"boom!"

A loud crash followed, and then the office door in front of Harry shattered into pieces of wood, which rushed behind him and formed a large wooden shield.

"Get down!"

William's voice came from inside, and then Harry watched as the wooden shield covering him shattered into sharp wood chips that flew towards him.

"No one is attacking, but someone is injured!"

As Harry hurriedly lay down, he shouted loudly—while doing all this, he still steadily dragged Scabbers, trying his best to ensure that the mouse who had sacrificed himself to save him was not harmed in the slightest.

Just as he was speaking, a violet-colored spell flew out of the office and landed on the empty wall, silently dissolving a large patch of unsettling dark solution.

'Gulp…'

Harry swallowed hard, vowing never to walk past this office door in his life wearing the Invisibility Cloak—no, if possible, he didn't even want to walk this floor.

"What are you waiting for? Come in."

William had already appeared at the door and called out to Harry, who was still in a daze.

"Professor, is this your door?"

"Come in first, didn't you say someone was injured?"

William didn't even glance at his poor office door—he had put a lot of effort into making it function properly and remain stable under normal circumstances.

Repairing it is out of the question. Putting aside the fact that the added magic would greatly increase the difficulty of repair, the black magic he added at the last minute is enough to condemn the door to death.

The wall can be repaired with some effort, but there's no rush—saving lives is the priority.

"Yes, Professor."

Harry recovered from his shock, hurried into the office, and then habitually went to his desk.

But this time he was so embarrassed that he didn't even know where to put his hands.

On the desk in front of him lay a thick stack of documents, and next to them, a piece of parchment covered half the desk with writing on it. A quill pen floated in the air, awaiting the next command.

Without a doubt, the professor has just been conducting research, and it might very well be very important research—

He didn't even know where to put the freckles.

"Oh, the table is a bit messy. I'm still working on something."

William gently waved his wand, and a transparent bubble enveloped the entire table. Then, he patted the desk, causing it to move to a corner of the room on its own.

Then, with a wave of the wand, a small table floated over from the wall.

"Don't be nervous. Keep it simple. Describe the injury and the nature of the wound clearly, otherwise we'll have to make another trip back and forth."

Someone getting injured is a big deal, but it's extremely foolish to rush over without thinking about anything else. Not all potions are suitable to carry around. The better the potion, the more delicate it is. If you dare to carry it around all day, it will spoil.

“It’s not a person, it’s Scabbers,” Harry finally had a place to put it down. “It’s this rat, it’s injured, Professor.”

"Blemishes?"

William paused for a moment, then looked at the mouse on the table.

"Was it bitten by a cat?"