From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

"No, Professor, Scabbers was bitten by a dog."

...

Are even the magical dogs getting nosy? Stealing the cats' jobs?

“The injuries are severe…” William said as he put on his dragon-skin gloves, then put on a second layer—the student’s pet had suffered a fatal injury, and he felt it was perfectly acceptable to help if he was able to.

It's a bit strange that the object of the rescue was a rat.

“Don’t rush, let me check the injury first,” he said to Harry, his hands still moving, a piece of parchment was rolled up and turned into something that looked like a wooden strip.

"In theory, pet mice don't attack people randomly, but you still have to be careful. If it hurts too much, they'll lose their minds no matter what."

As William spoke, he used a stick to pry open Banban's mouth, and then used magic to stick the teeth to the stick.

"The left hind limb is missing, and the body is... well, reproductive... never mind, missing, the tail is missing... The injury is severe, but the person is still alive."

"Is there any hope for it, Professor?"

"Of course there is hope. As long as it wasn't caused by dark magic, losing an arm or a leg isn't a serious injury for a wizard. You must remember that."

William began to explain to Harry as he estimated the missing parts.

"Of course, if you're sure your opponent is skilled in dark magic, then you'd better keep all attacks away from you. There's never a shortage of people in this world who are after lethality, and who knows how many terrifying dark spells are involved."

Harry tried to remember those words, but he found it too difficult—especially since William had even used magic to weigh Scabbers, which he simply couldn't comprehend.

"Gurgle, ugh?"

"It's not for eating, it's someone else's pet mouse. Alright, go eat your food, go eat your food."

As William used his left hand to protect the mouse while shooing it away, Harry finally noticed the huge owl.

"professor?"

“Don’t rush,” William tapped his wand on the parchment with his right hand, quickly calculating the amount of potion needed based on the ratio of weight to missing wound—the most fundamental difference between the magical world’s treatment of animals and that of Muggles is precision.

A little too much or too little potion isn't a big problem for wizards, but most creatures can't tolerate such a rough method of administering potions.

This time, the rescue of the rats also utilized his original professional knowledge. The effects of restorative potions are tested using biological methods, and William has inherited this method quite well—more than 90% of the rats can recover normally without exhibiting symptoms such as limbs being larger or smaller than normal or weakness.

First comes the Bone Spirit, then…

William mixed the potion according to the prescribed ratio, striving to make the regrowth as perfect as possible, without any flaws.

“It’s done,” William said, using his wand to make the prepared potion float up. “The craftsmanship hasn’t suffered.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the wooden stick he had previously used to gag the rat, and then let the medicine float in on its own.

“Just wait, the rat’s legs and the rest of its body will heal quickly,” William nodded to Harry. “However, a rat this old, after going through all that, and being forced to grow old with a potion, it’s hard to say how long it will live…”

"Thank you, Professor. Ron will be overjoyed. If Scabbers had died protecting him, Ron would have felt guilty for the rest of his life!"

"Protect?"

"Yes, protection. This is the second time it has protected us."

Harry said very seriously, "The first time it bit Goyle, the second time it stopped that terrible black dog for Ron."

'The damage caused by a rat, if you're not afraid, is about the same as a punch...'

However, William did not express his intention—whoever interrupts in this matter is a fool.

"How come there's a black dog? Oh, right, speaking of which, isn't this your class Hagrid's?"

William then realized something was wrong. He had initially thought that Scabbers had been bitten by someone else's pet, but this protective measure seemed to be working...

"Yes, Professor, but the dog in the classroom went out of control. It tried to attack Ron, but Scabbers blocked it, and then it ran away."

“Swallowtails?” William looked at Harry. “But I remember those creatures would never attack wizards without permission!”

"It was just another ordinary dog, which Hagrid used as a comparison, but it suddenly attacked."

Scabbers' condition has stabilized, and now Harry is starting to wonder—what strange theories could he have made if the black dog had attacked him, but what about the attack on Ron?

Moreover, the big dog kept staring at him, but when it attacked, it didn't react much even when hit by his magic—it was all too strange, both logically and emotionally, for it to attack Ron.

'A normal dog goes out of control…'

Rabies?

'I remember there were some powerful potions, and I prepared some.'

As William got up to find the medicine, he shook his head at Hagrid's bad luck—what kind of mess is it to catch a mad dog and bring it to class…

"It's most likely rabies. It has a special name in the magical world. Wait a minute, I'll get you some medicine."

It should be on this floor. This is for treating smallpox, and this... is for leprosy.

“Have a little, Harry. And take the medicine back with you. All the students who have been in close contact with that black dog should take two tablespoons. It’s a preventative potion.”

William handed over the medicine. "Remember to tell them that if they don't take their medicine, they'll have at least... never mind, just tell them to take their medicine."

He had originally planned to tell the children how many days they would need to be hospitalized, but considering that school had just started, he decided against it—there really are Gryffindors who dare to let someone bite them and then end up in the hospital, and if one or two more of those happened in fifth grade, it would be a real problem.

“Yes, Professor…” Harry answered softly, the question still lingering in his mind—if it was rabies, why did it look at him before attacking Ron?

"Professor, by the way, there's something I find very strange, during its attack—God, Scabbers!"

He couldn't help but shout. Banban had been very calm. Although the wound hadn't healed immediately, the bleeding had stopped long ago, and the bones and other organs were slowly growing.

The wound looked a bit eerie, but Banban remained calm. However, things were completely different now—Banban's wound looked as if it had been cut open again with a knife, and blood began to slowly gush out.

Even more terrifying, cracks appeared on his previously healthy upper body, with tiny beads of blood seeping out, forming spiderweb-like blood lines.

'Are you kidding me!'

William drew his wand, and a bright magical energy surged forth, enveloping the mouse completely. "This is what happens when the potion dosage is severely insufficient! Is it a pig? Even pigs don't react this badly."

Despite his cursing, William's hands didn't stop. The healing potion originally prepared for the students was directly poured into them, using the same amount given to the owl.

'Damn it, that's not enough!'

William quickly increased the dosage, this time to cats, then dogs—only when the dosage was sufficient for human use did the hemorrhage subside.

Harry watched William's careful yet frantic process of administering the drug, barely daring to breathe, afraid of interfering with the professor's operation and accidentally killing Scabbers.

But as William repeatedly added more medicine, Harry noticed something was wrong—the professor's complexion was getting worse and worse. In the end, although the terrible phenomenon was suppressed, the professor's face was ashen, as if he were about to kill someone.

"damn it."

Harry heard a similar sound, but couldn't figure out what it meant.

Soon, the potion was taken out again and fed to Scabbers in a super-large dose—the previously slowed or even reversed recovery suddenly returned to normal, and Harry could even see Scabbers' legs growing at a slow but visible rate.

But amidst this scene, the professor's eyes were so cold they looked like he wanted to kill someone.

"As expected... as expected... it wasn't just a legend of Azkaban, it was actually true..."

Harry heard these muttered words.

“What, Professor?”

Harry asked instinctively—he had a feeling that if he didn't ask something, something like a volcano was about to erupt.

"Human transformation techniques, forced human transformation techniques, and possibly even permanent ones..."

William repeated his words.

Even in Azkaban, this was considered a ghost story—permanent human transformation, coupled with all sorts of bizarre spells, turning someone you hate into an animal and imprisoning them for life.

This is a phrase prisoners often use to mock themselves—it's just that their treatment is worse than that awful place, Azkaban.

"You said Scabbers is your friend Ron's pet, right? How long has it lived at the Weasleys' house?"

“It’s been there for a long time… Ron got it from his brother… It was a mouse that Percy didn’t want.”

"Percy?"

William took a breath, trying to calm himself down—the ability to forcibly transform people was something he couldn't possibly pass on to his brother; it was more likely that the spellcaster transformed people and then sold them in the market.

'Find him, capture him, and send him to Azkaban!'

Such a thought suddenly came to mind and wouldn't go away.

Chapter 295 The Metamorphosis of Banban

"professor?"

Harry's shouts startled William, waking him up.

“It’s nothing, I just have some not-so-good speculations,” William said. He didn’t want to talk too much about those dark things with his students. Some of the things circulating in Azkaban were too dark even in the adult world, and were not suitable for students to come into contact with.

"Those spots?"

“It may have encountered some special circumstances and needs to remain in my office,” William said, carefully considering how much information to reveal, “but whatever the truth of the matter, I can assure you that its injuries are under control.”

As he explained to Harry, he beckoned his owl and hastily scribbled a note on the table.

"Thank you for going to Professor McGonagall's office."

William gently tapped its beak with his finger, then tied the note to it. The owl flew to the window, hopped a few times, slipped out the window, and then flapped its wings and flew away.

While Professor McGonagall was away, William quickly walked over to the mouse named Scabbers, trying to use this time to verify his judgment once again.

Harry, who was confused about what was going on, remained silent and just watched from the side.

'It looks like an ordinary mouse...'

William carefully examined the mouse—after the treatment it had just received, its wounds were already healing steadily…

'No! Something's definitely not right!'

William immediately noticed something was wrong: despite the seemingly excessive dose of the potion, the rat's forepaws hadn't recovered!

Even though its whole body was growing, the forepaw, missing a toe, showed absolutely no sign of growing back, as if it was born empty and didn't exist at all.

'Dark magic…'

As a professor of self-defense, William immediately concluded that only black magic could so thoroughly erase the existence of a limb, rendering regeneration ineffective.

"How long has it lived, Harry?"

William suddenly turned around and asked Harry.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I’m not quite sure either… but Ron has been raising him since his freshman year; he was Percy’s pet before.”