From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

He originally thought that Singed had created some magical artifact or alchemical potion that could increase his strength. Now that this kind of thing has come out, it can't be said to be bad, and it can even be said to be very suitable for Professor Singed to use, but it really doesn't help him.

'What Singed invented has nothing to do with you—if it's useful, you can only use it if he's willing to help you; that's none of your business!'

William warned himself, but the image of himself using black magic with the fast-acting hair growth serum kept replaying in his mind.

'The Dark Lord doesn't seem to have any hair—this might be useful to him? But wait—the Dark Lord doesn't even have a nose, what would he need hair for?'

This thought pulled William out of his strange mood—by which point Professor Singed had already begun boasting about his discovery to others.

“William—I suspect Singed successfully made those potions last night. He was just too excited to sleep.”

Adams said in a low voice.

'I agree with that. Those jokes don't seem like they could be made up in a short time—but you never know, maybe inspiration just struck?'

William didn't say this aloud—he hadn't eaten yet, and although he wasn't afraid of a duel, if Adams proposed one, he wouldn't be able to eat.

-

"Where's Adams? He's gone to Hagrid's again?"

On Friday noon, Singed, still in high spirits, asked William at the dinner table.

"That's right, just like yesterday."

William carefully placed the persimmons onto his plate and responded after confirming they were safe.

It was probably a joke Singed wrote in a moment of excitement that irritated Adams, or perhaps he had become addicted to cooking. These past few days, Singed had been going to Hagrid's place every day, and the two of them were dealing with the rooster together—according to Singed, he was now the head chef.

To be precise, Adams couldn't wait to go to Hagrid's place to cook right after finishing his first class today—his craving for cooking had been rekindled these past few days.

"Seriously, he's really addicted to it—he not only doesn't blush when joking around, but he also holds up the recipes and asks us which recipe looks most appetizing!"

"I'm afraid that one day he might get carried away and turn herbalism class into a cooking class. Given this trend, it's not impossible."

"Maybe he'll lose interest in the rooster then. By the way, did you see Afra today?"

William made a complaint, then asked about the little girl he hadn't seen today.

“No—Afra was grounded for two weeks, Professor Taylor said.”

"Oh? Afra is under house arrest, Adams is busy cooking—and you, how's your potion going?"

"It's still not allowed. Professor Kettleburn said that I'm prohibited from providing the drug to my other colleagues until its safety has been verified."

Professor Singed's tone carried a hint of imbalance—something William could completely understand.

It's true that new drugs need to be tested before they can be used, but Professor Kettleburn's claim that they've been proven safe is really unacceptable.

"Good things come to those who wait. Maybe you'll grow a full head of hair before they even use it."

"That's true—I might be able to turn this into a brand and make money while staying at the school."

"Stay at school?"

"Yeah, right—where else outside of Hogwarts can you find a job where you work less than four hours a week?"

Singid gave him a look that said, "Are you stupid?"

'So what if there's less alchemy class!'

William rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry about the details. Just think that Adams also had to take care of the herbs in the middle of the night, and that makes it much more balanced."

The comfort was quite effective, and William felt much better immediately.

Chapter 122: Another dead chicken?

Friday afternoon, faculty lounge.

Several professors who didn't have classes were playing wizard chess, while William idly picked up a book on transfiguration to read—theoretically, he should read more professional-related things, but ever since Professor Singed's hair growth potion incident, he suddenly realized that he still knew too little about the common knowledge of the magical world.

Although there's no theoretically any quick way to improve those common-sense skills, William still felt he should explore books from other subjects to broaden his knowledge.

Why is Transfiguration so difficult?

Theoretically, this book on transfiguration should be a basic textbook for third graders, but William read it with a feeling similar to reading C programming: from beginner to advanced.

His original magical foundation consisted of a mixed education in potions and some dark magic. Before enrolling, he focused his self-study on the now-renamed self-defense magic, which maximized his self-protection abilities. Improving his Transfiguration skills was indeed more difficult for him.

He easily went through the first and second grade courses, but the third grade courses were not so easy for him to understand.

"How about we go to the library and look up some reference books?"

William had this thought in his mind—even with the same content, different textbooks would emphasize different aspects of the explanation, regardless of the subject.

Just as he was about to put his idea into practice, the door to the lounge suddenly opened.

"Adams, you're back from PUBG?"

Singed stood out from the crowd watching Wizard's Chess.

Unfortunately, this joke didn't work—the herbalism professor could now ignore this level of mockery.

However, William guessed wrong today.

"Stop wrongly accusing people, Singed. Your biggest flaw is that you like to make wild guesses."

Adams shook his finger, looking utterly disdainful.

'Um? '

William, who was originally planning to leave after saying hello, was immediately drawn in by the plot development—watching for a little while wouldn't be a waste of time, right?

"We spent half a day building a much larger chicken coop and cast several protective spells on it. Now we don't have to worry about any strange creatures biting the chickens to death."

"Is it necessary? Do you think those magical creatures can eat as fast as you?"

Singed delivered a critical hit right away.

"That's because everyone in Hufflepuff is a great cook, so of course our food sells fast."

Adams looked proud.

"Huh? Didn't the attack happen on Monday? Hagrid still hasn't caught the animal that killed the rooster?"

Because of the big incident on Monday, the professors present all knew what had happened that day that caused the students to have dark circles under their eyes.

Hagrid served as the gamekeeper longer than most professors, and everyone was quite surprised that he hadn't caught any mischievous animals.

"It's unlikely they'll catch them. It was most likely the twins who did it; they haven't even had any evidence to warrant arrest."

William lowered his head to hide his expression—even if he had come to the conclusion that it would be wrong to tell the other professors without any evidence.

"No, not only were they not caught, but the last rooster was also killed."

"The last one?"

"Yes, that poor chicken was already dead when I went there this morning, otherwise we wouldn't have spent so much time setting up the chicken coop."

Adams said regretfully—clearly, he regretted not being able to kill the chicken himself.

"The last one? You ate so many?"

Singed immediately spotted the blind spot, which made things lively—the lounge was instantly filled with a cheerful atmosphere. Adams tried to explain that one chicken wasn't enough for Hagrid, or that it was mainly because they ate it so often, but Singed's sharp eyes couldn't hide anything from him.

During their pleasant time, William picked up his book and left the lounge.

-

'What did I overlook? Or are the twins not satisfied with just one act of destruction and planning to do it again?'

William's mind raced with countless ideas, but he decided to stop guessing—his previous speculation seemed to have gone wrong.

"It's not easy to ask Adams. There's a group of professors there, and they'd probably easily sway us with Singed and his group if we kept asking questions. It's fine to have a good time on weekdays, but the atmosphere there right now is clearly not suitable for conducting an investigation."

William walked briskly down the corridor, intending to first question Hagrid—hoping to get some different information this time.

"Hagrid, Hagrid!"

William shouted loudly outside Hagrid's cabin.

"William! Good afternoon—I'm going out for a bit, do you want to come along? I remember you don't have class."

Hagrid poked his head out with a rather comical outfit. William could guarantee that the bag on Hagrid's body and the cage in his hand would be enough to teach the entire school a lesson if used to catch rabbits.

"No, not really, but now—um, there's something I'd like to ask you."

William carefully chose his words, hoping this question would make Hagrid take it a little more seriously.

"Okay, you're being a bit too serious. Anyway, I've already made a reservation with Owl. Let's go inside and sit for a while. I think we'll have plenty of time to talk."

He waved his hand comically, put the cage on the ground, and led William into the house.

"I learned quite a few recipes from Professor Adams this week—some of them are magical recipes, which are not easy to learn. If I have some free time this weekend, I'll show off my skills."

Hagrid muttered to himself as he started looking for a teacup.

'If I remember correctly, Adams said the last rooster died today? Is he going to go restock again?'

"So, you want to buy a rooster?"

"Yes, I'm planning to buy more; I've ordered a lot this time."

Hagrid casually placed the teacup on the table.

"I heard from Adams that a rooster died today?"

"Yes, exactly the same as last time. Professor Adams helped me reinforce the chicken coop and used the methods commonly used in greenhouses to repel magical creatures. I also made some traps to scare away any small things that might come. This time, the rooster should be safe to bring in."

It looks like Adams fixed up his chicken coop quite well; at least Hagrid is quite satisfied.

But William didn't come here to investigate this.

"Hmm, is there anything different about this attack compared to the last one? For example, the marks, the methods, the amount of blood loss, or so on?"

"What kind of method could it be—it's the same old thing, biting off the head and then losing all the blood. If I didn't know that vampires don't drink chicken blood, I would have suspected it was a vampire!"

Hagrid said casually, showing he was even less concerned about the visit than last time.

That makes sense—after all, they ate more than a dozen roosters in a week, so what's so surprising about a chicken that just died and still had edible parts?

If William himself wasn't under a curse, he wouldn't care—after all, it's not poisonous and can still be eaten, and it's not enough for one meal, so what's there to worry about?