From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

'...'

After pondering it over, William angrily slammed the book on his desk shut and stormed out of the office—to go drink with Hagrid!

-

"Don't tell anyone about what happened today, Potter."

In Professor McGonagall's office, the vice-principal was giving Harry a warning—she didn't hear much of it, but she was already certain it was a true prophecy.

When this prophecy, which claimed to be absolutely unaffected by accidents, last appeared, the mysterious figure whose power had reached its peak almost disappeared.

Although the prophecy itself remains a secret, thanks to years of propaganda by the Ministry of Magic and speculation by well-meaning wizards, the entire wizarding world has come to believe in its existence.

Professor McGonagall, one of the parties involved, knew very well that it was not a lie.

Now, a new prophecy has emerged, and if it gets out even half a day later, the entire magical world will be in a panic—a true prophecy is not just a record of what someone ate; every event it foretells can shake the entire magical world.

"I understand, Professor, but what is that?"

Harry looked at Professor McGonagall with a puzzled expression.

He wasn't stupid—if even a group of professors, including Dumbledore, changed their expressions, that was definitely some big news.

Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to tell him anyway.

She always knew what Gryffindors were capable of. Compared to Harry spreading the prophecy, letting him know about it would be less harmful—this kid was a troublemaker who could bypass a bunch of traps to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone. The twins combined didn't give her as much trouble as Harry!

"That was a real prophecy. In most divination books, it is considered a manifestation of destiny, and the things described in the prophecy will definitely happen."

Professor McGonagall finished her explanation hastily and warned Harry again.

“It is of utmost importance that you do not mention this to Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley, nor to Hagrid or Black.”

Professor McGonagall stared intently at Harry, her expression extremely serious.

Under such pressure, Harry finally nodded heavily, promising not to share the matter with his friends.

After watching Harry leave, Professor McGonagall sat in her office chair and began to ponder the true prophecy.

What exactly did it say?

How much did Albus hear?

Is the so-called "him returning" the mysterious person that Albus has been talking about, who will eventually come back?

And... what's your view on Sibyl in the future?

It's inappropriate to continue saying she used deceptive methods to teach... but she scares students with ghost stories every year!

-

'A true prophecy…'

'You absolutely must not tell anyone.'

Harry walked down the corridor, completely bewildered.

Professor McGonagall's explanation did not dispel his doubts; instead, it made him even more curious about the prophecy itself.

Moreover, for some reason, he felt a sense of fear—was Professor Trelawney, who could make real prophecies, really the good-for-nothing charlatan Hermione described?

That was a prophecy that even Dumbledore had to listen to carefully!

The fear that had been dispelled by the centaur divination surged back like a fog, and unease gripped his heart.

I want to talk to someone—but who can I talk to?

He had promised Professor McGonagall that he wouldn't discuss the true prophecy with anyone. But without the prophecy, he had no way of explaining his current fear.

Suddenly, a figure popped into Harry's mind—yes, if it was him, then there would be no problem!

……

"Boom boom boom!"

There was a knock on the door of Hagrid's cabin. The two men, who were drinking together, exchanged a glance—hadn't they called anyone else?

"Hagrid, are you there? It's Harry."

Harry's voice was low, drifting out from under the door. But even so, the unease and panic hidden in his voice were still noticeable.

'Even though it's not lights out yet, the castle gates are about to close, aren't they?'

As William pondered this, he secretly pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door.

The person who came was indeed Harry. He was wearing his invisibility cloak and stood outside the door, with only his head floating in mid-air.

"Come in, Harry."

Hagrid greeted him warmly, "Why did you come all this way so late at night?"

Clearly, as a professor, Hagrid didn't care that a student would disregard school rules and leave the castle in the middle of the night—but William didn't intend to interfere either.

If every Gryffindor rule was caught, Professor McGonagall would never see the House Cup…

"I've run into some troubles, and I really don't want to stay in the castle anymore..."

Harry tried his best not to lie—he still remembered Professor McGonagall's request perfectly well.

"You're here too, Professor."

Although it was a lie, Harry's joy was genuine. After anxiously knocking on William's office door for a long time, he realized that William was not in his office.

After making numerous inquiries, I learned from a nearby oil painter that William had left with alcohol.

He immediately made a bold guess that William had come to Hagrid's side. He went back to get his invisibility cloak, and after a difficult lie to Ron, he managed to escape and come to Hagrid's side.

"You can still use the Firebolt next week when there's no training, Ron."

With this feeling of apology, Harry sat down next to William and Hagrid.

"It's not good for minors to drink alcohol."

William pushed the bottle away from Harry, then tried to look up at Hagrid.

"Hagrid, could you kill a rooster? Harry's still growing, I think we should get him something to eat—"

"I almost forgot!"

Hagrid muttered under his breath, then slammed his enormous hand on his head with a terrifying sound. “I’m going now, I’ll be right back—William, you know cooking magic, don’t you?”

"I know a little bit about simple things, so at least it won't taste bad."

Smuggling is a tough life, and supplies are all up to you. William does have a little bit of knowledge about cooking magic—though he's not being modest at all; his cooking skills are only slightly better than those of someone who can't eat people to death.

Hagrid left with a great gust of wind, heading straight to the yard to prepare a snack for Harry.

"Let's talk. What's the matter that's so urgent that you're calling me in the middle of the night?"

William stared into Harry's eyes and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Professor, that prophecy..."

As someone present, it was naturally not covered by Professor McGonagall's ban on William, and judging from William's change of expression, Harry believed he could get the answer.

"That prophecy...did you hear it all?"

I knew it was this... but... did I really hear it clearly?

William looked at Harry with a puzzled expression.

The wind was quite strong at the time, and the prediction was blown into pieces. It's one thing for the Seeker to have good insight, but his hearing is also so good.

“No… I only heard the beginning, but Professor McGonagall told me not to tell anyone else.”

Harry confessed honestly.

"You can't tell anyone else?"

William paused for a moment, then what should he say to Adams and the others tomorrow—that he watched a fireworks display tonight from a VIP seat at the Astronomy Tower?

He had never systematically consulted a fortune teller, and therefore underestimated the impact of true prophecies.

"Yes, the professor reduced my confinement by two weeks because of this, but publicly claimed that I used magic on a whim on the Astronomy Tower, so the confinement was actually extended."

Harry spilled the beans, telling the whole story in a rush.

"Professor...do you think what Professor Trelawney said...is true...?"

Harry voiced his fears… with a touch of shyness… this was the second time he had sought help with this issue.

What a joke—does a retail investor think they're a stock market genius just because their stock price has gone up a little?

Although William would never speak ill of Professor Trelawney in any setting for certain reasons, the professor's daily teaching consisted of nothing but intimidation, making it impossible for anyone to know her true abilities.

Divination isn't ordinary magic that can be compared, and she routinely describes herself as omnipotent—proficient in all forms of divination, a born divination master.

The most dangerous thing is that she predicts the death of one student every year, but many of them are still alive and well.

Everyone dies eventually; there's no escaping it. If she's so capable, why doesn't she predict which child will get into Azkaban?

I dare not say more, but William is at least 60% confident in accurately judging whether a graduate has the potential to go to Azkaban in the future. Isn't that much more accurate than divination?

However, he was also a witness to a real divination today, and now he himself is a little hesitant...

"Um…"

William organized his thoughts, looked at Harry, and spoke slowly.

"To put it simply, the fifth graders have been intensively studying the magical creatures they need to be careful to deal with recently, and in the related exams, Selma won first place with an overwhelming advantage."

“I have carefully reviewed her test paper, and many of her methods have given me entirely new insights—I have even personally tested those methods to confirm their feasibility.”

William carefully considered his words, avoiding any offensive language.

"However, whether it's last year's open-book exam or most of the current tests, Selma's grades have been mediocre. Last year's open-book exam was even more creative..."

“So, Harry,” William looked at the student before him, “don’t assume everything else is inevitable just because of some so-called true prophecy… There is a lot of magic, and there are a lot of prophecies…”

This was the mildest criticism he could offer.

Chapter 335 The Serious Person Who Writes a Diary

December 17nd sunny

The Triwizard Tournament is generating so much buzz that it's not just the Ministry of Magic staff who've come, but even the Minister of Magic himself...