From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

"Still eating breakfast? Really?"

Before the thought had even fully formed, hundreds of owls had already swarmed into the restaurant.

What's wrong with this school? Can't they even let people eat breakfast in peace?

William swiftly drew his wand and cast a spell to protect the surrounding food while observing the other professors at the table. Compared to William, these professors were much calmer, easily deflecting the falling dust and owl feathers. Judging from their skill, such a large-scale owl intrusion was definitely not a sudden event.

After checking the food, he began to look around—in Azkaban, those who didn't pay attention to their surroundings would suffer greatly, although William used to enjoy watching the excitement after a sudden incident.

The owls circled throughout the restaurant, found their owners or targets, and landed on their tables to deliver letters or packages.

While not as convenient as a phone call, it feels much faster than a courier service in terms of delivery speed—owl delivery won't have the same problem of packages catching fire, right?

I just don't know if there will be any accidents while using owls to transport owl food.

William, who had already rented the Owl mail delivery service several times, had this thought for the first time and couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

But the temporary peace was quickly shattered by a loud female voice.

"...If they fire you for stealing the car, I wouldn't be surprised at all. Just wait and see how I deal with you then!"

A voice a hundred times louder than a normal person shouting filled the entire auditorium, and William watched as a spoon slowly slid into the soup amidst the tremors caused by the loud noise.

The sound struck the stone walls, and Hogwarts' unexpectedly high architectural quality meant that the echo was hardly diminished, reverberating throughout the Great Hall.

William hesitated for a moment, then remembered what a terrifying existence this was—the Roaring Letter.

As its name suggests, this letter is filled with endless malice from the moment it is sent. Those who receive it will either die or wait for an explosion. Ordinary wizards have no choice but to obediently make their own choices. Only those who often do things that are not approved by the Ministry of Magic have some tricks to deal with this thing.

As a former prisoner who had attended the ultimate dark wizarding training course in Azkaban, William had naturally heard about these topics there.

In that godforsaken place, Azkaban, no news came in every day. Even the most tongue-tied person had developed the habit of confiding. If you didn't share anything with others, you either had a secret you couldn't tell anyone, or you were a person with a frighteningly strong will. Apart from these two, the only other people left were those who were driven mad by the constant watch of the Dementors.

However, William had no intention of helping the student solve this problem—just the fact that the method hadn't spread among wizards over the years showed that it wasn't a method easily accepted by the public.

William pulled out his wand, plugged his ears to stop the sound from tormenting his eardrums, and began to deal with his porridge.

-

"Look, the new professor."

At Hufflepuff's dining table, a group of witches gathered together, looking around the Great Hall with expressions of amusement, exchanging unfinished summer stories from the previous day under the cover of the Howling Letter.

Taking advantage of the chaos, a dozen or so people from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw dining tables slipped over to chat. The prefects, who were supposed to be in charge of discipline, were completely suppressed by the shout letter and were utterly ineffective.

"What's so great about a professor? He's unknown and only good-looking. He's all show and no substance. Professor Lockhart is the one with both top-notch abilities and looks."

"Yeah, yeah, why are they having him substitute for sixth grade? I thought it would be Professor Lockhart!"

"That's you! Superficial! There must be a reason why Dumbledore chose him as a professor. Anyway, I'm in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Advanced Class."

"You call others shallow, yet you didn't even know the course name was changed!"

The female voice that had been attacked earlier found strong evidence and, despite the shouting, began to mock the other party.

But the shouting stopped abruptly at that moment, and the laughter sounded jarring in the auditorium. As the prefects resumed their administrative duties, the people who had gathered to chat immediately dispersed.

The discussions in the auditorium began to shift towards the earlier shouting letter. The person involved barely lingered and left the restaurant door almost as if fleeing for their life.

It was only then that William realized the incident involved someone he knew—if he stopped him and asked further, it would probably involve three more treasure chests.

After some thought, William, finally deciding to abandon the perverse tastes fostered by Azkaban and become a decent human being, waved his hand and let the three parties involved go.

Just then, Professor McGonagall suddenly stood up from the table.

"Everyone, be quiet. Sixth-year Gryffindor students who have finished eating, come over here to check and collect your new timetables."

After that, the other three deans also stepped forward and asked their students to come and collect their class schedules.

Just like that, the atmosphere in the entire auditorium suddenly changed, and the shouting letter that had just been sent disappeared without a trace.

'Is this the skill of an experienced professor?'

William sat at the dining table, looking at the long queue, and unconsciously put down the fresh cucumber in his hand.

Chapter Fifty-Four: The First Lesson for Sixth Graders

"Professor William, please wait a moment."

As William prepared to leave the restaurant to continue preparing for his first lesson, Professor McGonagall, surrounded by a group of students, saw him about to leave.

"Is there something you need, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall pushed through the crowd and strode over.

"Excuse me, Professor William, could you perhaps make some changes to the enrollment restrictions for your advanced classes?" the professor asked in a low, consultative tone.

"Change? Isn't 'good' (E) a tradition of previous professors recruiting students?"

"Well, in the past, the position of professor of wizarding self-defense magic at the school was in high demand, so..."

William immediately understood what Professor McGonagall meant.

The sixth year at Hogwarts is quite different from the other years.

When students are in their fifth year, the Ministry of Magic sends examiners to conduct an exam called OWLs. The results of these exams are then sent to the Ministry of Magic, the school administration, and the professor himself for record-keeping.

Before sixth grade, all courses are either electives or required courses with no entry requirements. However, in sixth grade, professors have the right to reject students based on their OWL exam scores, and students can also choose courses based on their scores. Theoretically, if you don't care about your subsequent grades, you can still get your diploma by not attending any classes in your sixth and seventh years of school.

However, apart from a few positions, places that directly recruit fresh graduates from schools have strict requirements for students' grades. OWLs certificates alone are not enough; a higher-level NEWTs certificate and corresponding grades are also required.

However, if William is unwilling to admit students with weak academic performance, then those students will have no way to obtain the corresponding advanced certificates.

"Then let's set the grade to the lowest possible level, even a passing grade (A) is fine."

William generously set the entry threshold at the Ministry of Magic's minimum requirements, since he figured he'd be letting one or a whole group go anyway.

"That really troubles you, Professor William. The main problem is that the school's foundation in this course is too weak, and many professions require corresponding certificates. In my college alone, there are seven or eight students who are stuck on this course."

Professor McGonagall's face showed a rare expression of embarrassment—her own advanced class's admission threshold was E, and if it weren't for the fact that the students at the school had such a poor foundation in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and that there were too many students stuck this time, she would never have asked other professors to lower their admission threshold.

-

When William arrived in the classroom, he realized how wise it had been to give in.

Throughout Hogwarts, even including the students he admitted by giving extra credit, there were fewer than twenty students in the entire sixth year who actually attended his classes.

Not enough for a game.

He kept complaining while calming himself down.

This small number of students poses no pressure at all, and the prepared self-introductions can be saved for the next time.

"The number of people is a little less than I expected."

William walked to the podium with a smile and placed the textbooks he had brought on the table.

"To be honest, things aren't quite what I expected—I was planning to wait for you all to come in and get to know you one by one in the classroom, but the way to Hogwarts is a bit harder to find than I thought."

"Professor, you've never been to Hogwarts?"

A gasp of surprise rippled through the students below. William caught a glimpse of the person who had spoken out of the corner of his eye—a very quick-witted individual, whose loud noise could serve as a warning to others.

However, William never intended to hide this fact—he looked too young, and it would be easy for older students to find out by asking each other that they had never seen the professor at Hogwarts.

"No, before Hogwarts was established, wizarding was taught by master and apprentice or within families, and this tradition has never been broken. I received that kind of education."

The students below immediately began whispering among themselves. William ignored the noise and asked:

"Hey? Have you guys seriously studied the history of magic? Here's a simple question—does anyone know how many other magic schools there are besides Hogwarts?"

“I know, I know,” the boy who had spoken first raised his hand.

"Come here."

"Demstrong, Beauxbatons, Ilvermony, Castrobuscher... um..."

After humming in and out for a while, the tall student remained stuck there.

"The School of Magic, Vagado, Cordos Ritz... including Hogwarts, there are eleven magic schools in total."

A petite girl with a confident expression sat down and finished filling in the rest of the school, then looked at all her classmates like a proud little hen.

"The perfect complement, Ravenclaw?"

William clapped his hands and asked.

"Yes, Charlotte, a sixth-year Ravenclaw student."

“Ravenclaw, ten points,” William said with certainty, turning to look at the tall man who had appeared earlier.

"Gryffindor?"

“No, Professor, Hufflepuff.”

"Oh, sorry, Hufflepuff five. What's your name?"

“Bell Turner, Professor.”

“Very good, thank you for your answer, Mr. Turner—” William picked up the chalk, turned around and wrote the names of the eleven schools on the blackboard.

"As you can see, there are eleven schools in total. The magical world is surprisingly large, but I don't intend to introduce those schools to you here. To be honest, my knowledge of them is the same as most of you; I've only read about these places in books."

"Of course, this material alone is enough for me to get by for half a semester—but it doesn't seem to have anything to do with our courses. Although I've never met the professor of history of magic, I obviously can't compete with him for his job, can I?"

The students below chuckled softly.

"Alright, today is the first class, so let's use this class to talk about what we're going to learn."

"discuss?"

Bell, having been praised as the straight man, readily cooperated.

“Yes, let’s discuss it,” William nodded approvingly, erasing the school’s name from the blackboard.

"I suggested that the school change the course name, but the course content remains largely the same: Wizard Self-Defense Magic Learning - to be honest, even I find the name awkward to pronounce."

"Now, let's discuss the so-called self-defense."

William turned to face the blackboard as he spoke.

"If we break it down further, the protection of physical safety and the protection of property can be categorized into these four types."

"To prevent other wizards from attacking or harming you, to protect yourself from magical creatures or herbs, to protect yourself from unexpected events, and to prevent your property from being damaged."

When the fourth word was written, the students below burst out laughing.