From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

"Oh, my darling, the school food must not be very good!"

At No. 4 Privet Drive, Penny spoke enthusiastically to Dudley, who had returned from vacation, completely ignoring the fact that he had grown considerably larger than when he left home.

"Harry isn't back, is he?"

Dali threw himself on the sofa and pulled a bucket of potato chips directly from the coffee table.

"How could that be? Let that kid rot in that damn school!"

Vernon spread his hands and told a lame joke that wasn't funny at all.

"By the way, how are our neighbors?"

He suddenly remembered something and asked Penny, "It's not some junk, is it?"

"I only saw some furniture being moved in; I didn't see the rest. Maybe it will be after Easter?"

-

"No. 6, Privet Road?"

Harry was momentarily stunned in the taxi; he was indeed quite frightened by Sirius.

"But, isn't that over there..."

He didn't know what to say for a moment, so he could only mutter unrelated things that suddenly popped into his mind.

"It used to be, but I just bought it recently."

Sirius nodded. "Business has been good at the firm lately."

???

This time it was William's turn to be puzzled—what kind of firm is this that can earn so much money?

Judging from Sirius's tone, it seems that the business was doing so well that he had the money to buy a big house.

You can't fool kids like this just to show off!

But some naive kids actually believed it. Harry, at his age, clearly didn't fully grasp just how wealthy a pure-blood wizarding family descendant could be. He just looked at Sirius with longing, "Is that so? That's great!"

That would be bad. Just look at Sirius's current outfit; William would believe him if he said it was a gift from his new girlfriend for her 80th birthday.

……

"We've arrived, this is the place."

After the taxi arrived at its destination, Sirius got out first. "I don't need to introduce you, Harry, do I?"

'...'

You two be careful, I'm still alive.

William got out of the car and looked around at his surroundings—it was his first time here.

Should this be considered a home visit?

It seems somewhat similar to going to a student's home to talk with the student's parents and exchange information about the school's situation.

But who would monitor the students' parents during a home visit?

Professor McGonagall didn't even use any euphemisms, directly instructing William to keep a close eye on Mr. Black and Mr. Potter to prevent them from doing anything that violates the secrecy laws in a moment of impulse.

"Go check out the new house, and then pick out a room for yourself! Any of them are fine!"

Sirius pointed to the door of No. 6 Privet Drive and spoke in a slightly cheerful tone before noticing William looking around behind him.

'This way... we can run... any corner, if we knock down the wall, will create a blind spot... It should be able to block most magic spells, but if the magic is stronger, a counterattack from here is also possible...'

“Professor William…I’m sorry,” Sirius said sincerely, interrupting William’s study of the terrain.

“You need to choose a guest room for yourself, Professor. I’ll have it cleaned up soon.”

-

"So this is a telephone, right?"

"Wow, the changes in Muggles over the years are incredible, just over a decade ago..."

Sirius's voice came from downstairs, startling William, who was reading upstairs—Don't pin everything on Azkaban!

Putting aside the fact that telephones have been around for a while, how could a detective who has been working in the Muggle world for a month not know how to use one?

What a joke!

Even if you're trying to communicate with your godchild, you don't need to come up with such an absurd excuse!

Chapter 342 Every Gryffindor is a Dangerous Man

"Damn it! What time is it?!"

Hermione scrambled out of bed in a panic, instinctively reaching for her neck, where a small, gleaming timer lay securely on a long, thin, delicate chain.

Just as she placed her finger on the timer, preparing to turn it as usual, she finally woke up.

"Whoo~~~"

'It's the holidays, we don't need it anymore…'

She finally remembered this matter, glanced at her dormitory room where she was the only one left, and then lazily checked the time.

Is it already nine o'clock?

But time has lost its meaning for her—the small timer around her neck serves to interrupt time, and her routine has been completely disrupted for almost a year.

Because of her class schedule, she needs to use that precious time converter every day to gain at least an extra hour and a half, and sometimes even three hours or more when she has a lot of classes.

This severely disrupted her daily routine. She needed to spend longer days than others to rest, and during her limited rest time, she had to complete far more homework than others, which further eroded her rest time.

Long-term sleep deprivation made her irritable and less energetic than usual, hindering her ability to read extensively.

But it's worth it—this is a hurdle that top students must overcome.

At Hogwarts, to obtain enough OWLs certificates, you have to do it this way. This is how the best students in each year have gone through the process: from third to fifth year, using converters to take enough subjects and thus earn multiple certificates.

But time travel that's mentally exhausting isn't exactly a romantic journey, and by the second week, she almost mixed up her class schedule.

She secretly asked the current president of the male student council about this, and Percy told her, "It's a pretty tough journey, but once you get through it, you'll be glad you did."

"You have two years. If others can do it, so can you!"

In the empty dormitory, Hermione cheered herself up.

After indulging in her revelry for a short while, she finally got dressed and began to plan what to do today—Harry had gone to Sirius's house, Ron had returned home, and she, in her drowsy state, had forgotten to write home to tell them she had changed her mind…

'But that's good, they'll definitely notice the difference... I'll definitely get a good rest when I get back...'

She checked herself in the mirror, hesitated for a moment, looked at her teeth, gestured with her wand, and finally gave up the idea of ​​casting a spell on her front teeth.

But this also dampened my mood.

"Those two bastards! They secretly ran back by themselves!"

She grumbled and sulked, and when no one was looking, she kicked her shoes in a huff until she reached the center of the lounge.

But the lounge was empty. After all, it was Easter, and those who wanted to sleep in hadn't gotten up yet, and those who had entertainment activities wouldn't stay here at this time.

After reading for a while out of boredom, Hermione stood up decisively and walked towards the entrance of the lounge.

For some reason, a strange thought arose in her mind—to take advantage of the fact that there were few people in the castle now, and explore all the hidden corners of the castle in order to discover the secrets hidden in the castle.

For example, land like Myrtle's washroom, where almost no one sets foot.

Chapter 343 A magic wand is much better than this thing.

Food is an essential part of survival, a miracle created by the magic of cooking, a color more dazzling than a kaleidoscope, and an existence that neither wizards nor Muggles can avoid.

However, just as there is such a thing as magic failing, cooking can also produce garbage that can barely be called food.

At least that's how it is now.

William looked at the burnt fries and undercooked fish on the table and didn't have much confidence in Harry's future.

Well, he put in the effort and was very sincere. A middle-aged man was practically begging for smiles at the table. What more could you want?

But if they can mess up fish and chips, can they really trust the rest of the dishes?

"Harry, go outside and get something to eat—you should know the restaurants there, right?"

This is only natural, after all, Harry grew up here, and even if the Dursleys weren't keen on taking him to the restaurant, he should know the area very well after all these years.

"We can call them to deliver!"

As if trying to make up for something, Sirius quickly said things he wouldn't normally say.

“It’s different. Some shops may not offer that service—” William interrupted Sirius, nodding to Harry.

"Yes, Professor."

Harry finally realized something was wrong, readily agreed, put on his coat, and went outside.

Sirius Black realized what was happening and hurriedly pulled a large wad of cash from his pocket, stuffing it directly into Harry's hand—William wanted to glare at him; who gives money to a child like that?

However, Harry was so flustered that he didn't realize exactly how much there was, and absentmindedly opened the door and left.

Having guessed that Harry had walked away, William shrugged at Sirius and then sat down in a chair.

“Well, I must take back what I said earlier, Mr. Blake, you really have no talent for cooking…”

He pressed his hand to his forehead. “We need to think of something else. Hiring a cook is out of the question, and the secrecy laws definitely won’t allow it. You’ll need to find a house-elf—although we don’t know how pure-blood families maintain their own number of servants, I think this is far less difficult for you than for other wizarding families.”

-

Why are they arguing? They were perfectly fine yesterday.

Harry walked down the street, his pockets filled with wealth he never dared to imagine, but he had no heart to enjoy that happiness.

'Is it because of cooking? Actually, I can help... at least I can make soup; I was often in charge of watching the soup pot at the Dursleys' house...'

But the boy's sorrow came and went quickly—although the professor and his godfather may have quarreled, the immense joy of living with his godfather left him no room for sentimentality. The thought of a wonderful future filled him with happiness, tearing away all the unpleasantness.

Therefore, it didn't take long for him to realize how wealthy he was now.

At Hogwarts, he often found himself very different from the children from wizarding families. His thoughts were actually closest to Hermione's. Although they were both trying to adapt to wizarding society, their eleven years in the Muggle world had left a deep mark on them.