From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

In short, Sirius Black was stumped by a case and couldn't find any clues, so he simply asked Lupin for help.

"Shall we go outside and talk?"

William gestured to Lupin, who had just asked for this, and Lupin left with a string of corn.

"I'm also stumped...it's been so long...more than a decade...it's really impossible...Blake and I suspect it was the work of a wizard. Come to think of it, that was indeed the time when the Mystic was at his most rampant. I'm not curious about what happened..."

Both of them, as professors of self-defense, knew exactly how much of the dark magic involved using human beings as materials.

It's perfectly normal for some dangerous magical creatures that are manipulated to even use humans as food—even the trolls they use as teaching aids today include humans in their diet.

Long ago, a mysterious figure commanded giants, and according to their appetites… a village…

"Pretend to be an explorer, and then spread rumors that you have found a treasure map buried near the village—look through some information and randomly name it after a pirate. Then secretly pretend to have found something related to those pirates, and lure the people around to search the ground... After that, use shapeshifting to search a large area."

"Once Muggles start digging, the secrecy surrounding the large-scale alteration of the landscape will be broken... Whatever happens, the skeleton should still be there..."

William pondered for a long time before finally coming up with this idea to circumvent the protection law's search for possible remains—theoretically feasible. Those unlucky guys who got caught were caught because the real treasure they unearthed was too valuable; they sold too much and were reported when they tried to exchange it for Galleons…

Chapter 358 The Arrival of the OWLs Exam

"Do you think those guys will be furious if they wake up in the closet?"

In the hospital, the Gryffindors received treatment while whispering among themselves. Mrs. Pomfrey, who was in charge of the treatment, never asked the students why they were injured, nor did she complain to the school.

This is a last resort. Once the infirmary starts asking about this, some students will be afraid of being punished and will choose to treat themselves. Given their level of magic and potion-making skills, they will most likely only make things worse.

They're all underage kids, still holding magic wands. It's impossible to expect them to behave and not cause trouble. We can only increase safety measures to prevent accidents from happening.

"Okay, next one."

Mrs. Pomfrey, feigning ignorance, called out to the students.

These large-scale fights happen every year without fail—especially around the time of the OWLS exams, when they are impossible to prevent.

After nearly a year of accumulated pressure, every fifth-year student was like a powder keg, ready to explode at any moment, especially Gryffindor and Slytherin. Years of hatred had built up, and it wouldn't be surprising if several were hospitalized.

This year has been relatively peaceful with fewer disturbances, which has been a relief.

Moreover, these guys in front of me are all fifth graders. They've been fighting for years and are used to it. It's impossible for anything to happen. I'll just have to work a little overtime tonight.

Madam Pomfrey's superb medical skills quickly cured all the Gryffindors, and then the group of fifth-year students walked out of the school hospital with happy and proud faces, just like a defeated rooster.

Fred and George stood at the front of the line, grinning from ear to ear—they had finally gotten their revenge for the Slytherin ambush they had almost suffered before the Quidditch match. Two delightful things had happened in one day; what more could they ask for?

The two arrogant brothers and the rest of the fifth graders quickly headed towards the restaurant; after the fight, they still had to eat, right?

But they soon received a harsh blow from reality—because the elves were busy supplying the students outside, the children who stayed in the castle no longer enjoyed the privilege of having hot meals waiting for them.

-

"That's strange, the level of restlessness among graduating students this month has decreased considerably..."

Inside the office, William was recording grades while preparing for the final exams—judging from the recent assignments submitted by the fifth graders, their OWLS test scores should be quite good.

Although three students didn't have to hand in homework, their grades were quite stable.

After all, William only exempted students from homework; in-class tests continued.

"Is it because of that big exam earlier? But what about the other grades..."

He shook his head, still not understanding the situation. However, the decrease in restlessness was a good thing. After finishing the OWLS exam, he planned to investigate what had happened this month and make adjustments in this area in future education.

"After the OWLS exams are over, it's time to get on Professor Lupin's agenda."

William wasn't entirely sure what the school was thinking, but he had a very pleasant collaboration with Professor Lupin this year and had learned a lot from Lupin about what traditional Hogwarts education should be like.

Frankly, if another professor like Lupin were available, William might even be willing to give up the sixth and seventh grades.

But that's impossible. Whether Lupin can stay this year is another matter. Although all the groundwork has been laid, werewolves are different from others and are seriously taboo.

The wizarding world hasn't even solved the problem of werewolf infection yet. Hogwarts is the future of the British wizarding world, truly half of it. Which parent would be happy if a werewolf appeared among a group of children who have little ability to protect themselves?

It's like having a kindergarten teacher who has HIV; which parent would feel at ease?

Fortunately, the wolfsbane medicine has now rendered Professor Lupin virtually infective; otherwise, no matter how well Professor Lupin teaches, William wouldn't dare to make such a guarantee.

'But the Ministry of Magic really is... in their eagerness to claim credit, they actually fabricated a story about Lupin being a batter, and even published it in the newspapers for several days...'

This means that after Lupin's story comes out, even if Fudge looks like he's eating shit, he still has to stand behind Lupin and admit that he is a safe, harmless werewolf who can control himself.

Thinking about this makes William want to laugh—there's no way around it, he was put in Azkaban because of Fudge's new policies, and seeing Fudge suffer makes him happier than if he got a raise.

"Let me add a special note first: right now, my main focus is still on owls."

As William wrote, he also made a note in the next year's work log about another important thing—Felix Felicis.

After a year of somewhat irregular research, he was ready to advance towards the pinnacle of potion making.

Actually, he had the strength to take on the challenge around April thanks to the abundant supply of herbs in the campus greenhouse, but unfortunately, Felix Felicis had to be postponed until the next academic year.

The reason is simple: brewing a dose of Felix Felicis takes up to six months, and during this time he must avoid any adverse factors caused by accidents—school has summer vacation, and a novice like him would absolutely not dare to move the potion around before it is successfully brewed—to be precise, even if someone raises their voice and it might cause the potion to fail, William would not hesitate to smash that person's head.

"The materials are almost ready. Three hundred Galleons for materials... Even knowing the finished product will be expensive, this is still too much..."

He touched the materials he had spent a lot of money collecting with a painstaking heart, and then locked them at the bottom of the cabinet to avoid being tempted again.

"Formal attire... hat... welcoming the examiners is getting more and more complicated..."

William rubbed his owl's head, added a bag of premium food before the owl pecked at his fingers in dissatisfaction, and went into the break room inside the office to change his clothes—the examiners would arrive at noon, which meant the battle of wits was about to begin again.

-

"Phew...we should actually have handed in our homework..."

In the Gryffindor common room, the twins discussed their exercises with tense expressions.

People can become addicted to progress. As long as they receive positive feedback—after being forced to study for a summer vacation, their grades were quite impressive when school started—and their talents were no less than their three older brothers, which led to their rapid improvement in grades.

After resisting Professor William's relentless insistence on making them work on their papers a few times, the two of them finally started to work hard. They only got a little carried away during the major exams, but afterwards they were still just as diligent in their studies.

But that doesn't stop them from worrying about the exam now.

The more you plan to do something, the more worried you become about its results—this is an age-old law. But worrying is useless, as the examiners arrived on time.

"Why are you so nervous, Professor Lupin..."

William glanced at Lupin, "The second, third, and fourth-year students don't take the exams..."

“I’ve been afraid since I was in school…” Lupin admitted honestly, which was rare for him. “To be honest, those two big exams scared me to death. I was always worried about being expelled from school because of my grades.”

"Looking only at grades is the best approach—but what lessons have you actually taught your students?"

"The final lesson is almost here," Lupin said, taking a deep breath and feigning nonchalance.

"Stop for now, don't rush to move forward with the course. Perhaps we can do more—I don't think the principal will let you leave so easily."

"How is that possible..."

Lupin tried to say something, but William had already been stopped by Professor Marchban.

"Little William, come here quickly!"

The old lady was in good spirits, and the examiner behind her also looked very motivated.

"This time we won't let you get away with it so easily. We've deliberately made the questions a bit more difficult."

Without hesitation, she revealed the happy truth—after everyone passed the test last year, they decided to make the questions more difficult to avoid controversy.

“If your students can get full marks again this year,” Professor Marchban said cheerfully, “then we will buy a page in the Daily Prophet to publish the questions and assessment criteria for the last four years, and the Examination Authority will not raise the difficulty again.”

"In addition, I would recommend that you receive a second-class Order of Merlin in recognition of your outstanding contributions to education."

As she spoke, she patted William on the shoulder, completely ignoring the noisy chatter in the crowd, and pulled Professor McGonagall to go to the Hogwarts dining room for a meal.

As the most respected senior in the entire magical world, even Professor McGonagall could only smile and begin to lead the way, leaving William, whose face was blasted by the depth charge, and the whispering students behind.

"Merlin Knights, Second Class Medal!"

The fifth-grade students in the back row even temporarily forgot about the exam and talked about it with a sense of pride and honor.

The Order of Merlin is divided into three classes. The first class is awarded to those who have performed exceptionally brave or unusual acts in the wizarding world. The second class is awarded to those whose achievements or efforts exceed those of ordinary people. The third class is awarded to those who have made contributions to knowledge or entertainment.

Last year, Professor Lockhart almost constantly talked about his Order of Merlin, Third Class.

The medal that Professor William has now received (even if the questions are difficult, every fifth-grade student thinks it's nothing compared to the torment they've endured all year) is a more prestigious second-class medal!

Unfortunately, William knew very little about this thing. He only understood the seriousness of the matter from Professor Marchban’s tone, which was the only thing that didn’t sound like a joke. The Order of Merlin was a bit far removed from his knowledge.

His understanding of the wizarding world began in Azkaban, where prisoners never described anything like the Order of Merlin—in the entire history of magic, very few who received the Order of Merlin were ever imprisoned in Azkaban.

Those exceptions could not possibly occur outside Azkaban, making such an honor impossible to appear in the daily discussions in Azkaban. The Ministry of Magic would not award medals for whoever smuggled how much cargo or committed any financial crimes, and those imprisoned would not think that they could get one someday.

"Alright, alright, what are you standing here for? Have you finished reviewing the questions? Go find out what the exam order is!"

After a brief pause and a moment's thought about Azkaban, William immediately snapped out of his daze.

"I've told you so many test-taking tips, but you're still panicking when the time comes. Go and make sure you see the instructor clearly—don't make the same mistakes you did before, like when you were trying to predict the exam by looking at the examiner's face as an image in a crystal ball!"

"Yes, Professor!"

The noisy students immediately quieted down when they saw that William didn't seem to care much.

"Prefects, please wait a moment!"

William suddenly remembered something and called out to the eight prefects of the fifth grade.

After confirming that there were no students around, he whispered instructions to the prefects.

"Find someone quick-witted to observe how the instructor uses his magic wand! Report back to me!"

"Okay, Professor."

Although they didn't know what the professor was going to do, the grueling fifth-year exams had left Gryffindors with no inclination to resist orders.

"Forget it... give up, pretend I didn't say anything."

Before they had gone far, William called them back and told them to give up observing.

Although they were even more confused, the students didn't ask any questions and left directly.

"Helping students cheat is out of the question. They've already learned enough. Professor Machiban isn't going to raise the standards to the point where even those who have mastered the basics can't pass."

He still trusted the old professor's judgment.

Predicting exam questions is already the limit; if you were to use his methods, it would be practically cheating.