From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

"Don't be ridiculous, two hours—those professors will go crazy. They haven't come up with any rules yet. Professor Dumbledore is blocking us from conducting experiments."

"It's okay, I'll extend your usage time. I'll talk to the principal, and he'll agree."

William chuckled and said shamelessly—Adams, as a professor who was proficient in herbalism and whose loss of control in combat would not cause too much damage, had already obtained the Crown's experimental qualification ahead of other professors.

This time, Adams became withdrawn.

-

"Go to class, go to class, pay attention! It's only Thursday, you can sleep as long as you want this weekend."

When William walked into the classroom, half of the seventh-grade students were slumped over their desks, as if they had just been out all night at a dance.

Good morning, Professor.

The students greeted William listlessly.

"What's going on? I don't recall any dances lately. Did you seventh graders have some kind of secret party yesterday?"

William simply stepped down from the podium, pulled up a chair in the middle of the classroom, and sat down directly among the students.

"No, Professor."

The child closest to William hesitated for a moment, then said, "Yeah, we heard that you won the crown and promised the fifth graders that the first-place winner of the OWLs exam would get a period of use—look, we seventh graders have exams too, don't we?"

...

'I've never even worn this crown myself—why are both teachers and students staring at it so intently?'

Undoubtedly, upon hearing that fifth graders had the opportunity to use the crown, these seventh graders were also envious. To be precise, seeing how sleepy they were, William suspected that these guys had been discussing all night what it would be like if they got the crown.

"You're a bunch of mature seventh graders now, can't you think about things adults should be thinking about? Like career and love?"

William looked at the students around him with a disappointed expression, noticing that their eyes were all incredibly focused.

'If there really is a problem with that crown and it has to be destroyed, can it really be destroyed?'

This question suddenly came to William's mind, but he forced himself to ignore it—to put it bluntly, he might not even have the ability to destroy that crown.

'I can't even see the problems mentioned above—what does destroying it have to do with me? I'd probably be killed by some underhanded force before I even lift a finger.'

"You all like crowns?"

William asked softly.

"Of course!"

The students answered in unison with unwavering confidence.

“Supreme wisdom,” William said, looking around at the students. “Who could hate it? But there is always a price to pay—nothing in the magical world comes without effort. I’m not referring to the crown you receive, but the wisdom that comes with it.”

"If gaining wisdom from a crown comes at a price, what might that price be?"

William clapped his hands quickly, his tone quickening: "Now! Everyone! Immediately write down a guess, imagine what that crown might require to pay, and hand it in. If anyone can write down a price they can't even imagine, then they might very well get to touch that crown before graduation. But if no one has anything new to offer, then unfortunately—"

William glanced at everyone. "You might miss your only chance to get your hands on it."

Without any further ado, all the students took out paper and pens from their backpacks and quickly began writing.

"Be original and concise—anyone who tries to use rhetoric is out!"

William continued to add to the rules, but no one complained.

'While their obsession with crowns surprised me a bit, it's still a good starting point for the lesson.'

William stood up and scanned the students.

He had originally planned to talk about the cost – many magical traps are successful in killing wizards not because they are well-hidden, but because the bait placed on the traps is tempting enough. After all, the seventh-year students were going to work in the magical world, and William was prepared to pass on his observations of the magical world to his students.

'Although I've only been in this so-called magical world for almost a year, my experience in Azkaban is enough for both me and these children to use for half a lifetime. There was just too much darkness and too many setbacks there…'

William sighed and began to consider the crown issue—whether he wanted to admit it or not, his name was now inextricably linked to the crown that had been discovered.

'One person's perspective is limited; perhaps these theoretically adult wizards would have different opinions—'

"The crown that grants unprecedented wisdom and is treasured by Ravenclaws certainly isn't as terrifying as I'm making it out to be. But who knows about the magic lessons attached to it? What if those people suddenly have a brilliant idea and can guess what's going on?"

But whether he guessed it or not, William planned to just throw the report at Dumbledore and be done with it—who knows which student might inspire the headmaster; it was just a matter of using the crown, which William would get for free without a second thought.

It's best to have a hint, but it's not a big loss if there isn't one, since William won't grade this exam anyway.

-

"Are they all done? I'll send them to Dumbledore for his personal evaluation. If they don't pass, don't say I'm too harsh," William said with a smile as he collected the exam papers and then got down to business—the students who had already written down all sorts of random ideas finally got into class mode this time.

"Well, everyone has made their own guesses just now. Although I haven't had time to see your responses, judging from your answers, I've discovered something quite sad."

“Sigh—” William drawled out, but quickly said in a rather cheerful tone, “After so many classes, I’ve found that this was the most serious answer you’ve ever given.”

The students below burst into laughter.

"Alright, alright, I remember there are students among you who aspire to become Aurors?"

"Of course, Professor!"

Three students raised their hands at the same time.

“Quite a good choice,” William praised without reservation—he might need to consider a striker, but he had no prejudice against Aurors.

"Then you should know that Aurors need a whole bunch of ridiculous and painful certificates, right?"

"liver?"

The students' voices were slightly puzzled.

"Haha, my mistake. That's a local slang term. To be precise, I meant—dazzling. Those demands are incredibly complex, aren't they?"

Almost all the students nodded in agreement—the fact that they could learn the subject of self-defense and name change to the advanced level speaks volumes about their love for the course. And as an Auror, a profession that takes this course to its extreme, no one would overlook it when seeking employment.

"There's a somewhat outdated saying that those certificates are the price you have to pay to become an Auror. Of course, becoming an Auror requires much more than that—I'm sure you know just as much as I do."

"You may have heard this saying a long time ago, but I still have to repeat it to you again: before you think about what to do, remember the word 'cost'."

"Believe me, knowing how to weigh gains and losses is no less important than profound knowledge for a wizard. After your internship, you will find that the magical world has fewer constraints on you than you think—you will have to consider much more than you do in school."

The laws of the magical world are imperfect and arbitrary, and many of them even contain deliberately left loopholes.

But that doesn’t mean those places can be used at will. As someone who came from Azkaban, William knew very well what kind of people went into Azkaban—the proportion of people trying to exploit legal loopholes was by no means low.

……

"I hope that you will think carefully before you do anything: Why am I doing this? What do I have to give up? What can I get out of it? Is it worth it?"

"Do it if it's worth it, and give up if it's not. Although it's not a spell, I personally think it's a remarkable self-defense magic. It's no less powerful than the Ironclad Charm."

"Alright, class dismissed. Study the textbook on your own, and hand in your papers next class—" William waved the guessing sheets he had collected, smiled at the students, "I'll also hand in your assignments for you. Good luck."

"professor!"

Just as William was about to leave, a student behind him suddenly asked a question.

"Isn't it too tiring to have to consider everything?"

"That's the attitude towards work. Work is work, and life is life; the two shouldn't be confused."

"So how is life, Professor?"

“Life is always unpredictable, full of messy things that can't be easily judged, and sometimes things that don't even need judging.” William pressed one hand against the doorframe. “There are too many unexpected things; who can say for sure? Perhaps—”

William paused, then smiled. "Is it the blooming mistletoe and the moonlight at the end of summer?"

Chapter 158 Early Visit

"It's Friday already!"

Adams sat opposite William, his face solemn, as if he were issuing an ultimatum.

"I know."

William waved his hand lazily, pretending to be indifferent, and flipped through the book "Intermediate Transfiguration" in his hand.

“Be serious, William. We’re not kidding. Tomorrow, right tomorrow, I have to test the crown!”

Adams looked nervous.

“I know, I know very well, this is the twenty-third time you’ve brought up this topic—and this is only when you’re talking to me.”

William was indeed quite worried when his friend first came to him for advice, but Adams kept the conversation going until it was too intimate to continue, and all his worries disappeared.

"Only twenty-three times, William. Do you know how many times I dreamed of that crown when I was in school? No less than a hundred times!"

Adams looked serious, as if repeating it twenty-three times was no big deal.

That's it, once you're adorned with a crown, no normal person remains, right?

William couldn't help but cover his forehead—the history of the crown was so long, and its effect was so fitting for the school, that even the professors dreamed of what it would be like if they ever got the crown, from their studies to their current jobs.

'This madness is understandable, but we need to cool this kid down. Experimenting with that crown in this state isn't a good idea; emotional spells are a major part of dark magic.'

With that in mind, William made up his mind to move the event originally scheduled for Saturday to today.

“Come on, Adams,” William said, placing the bookmark in the book and then on the table.

"Leave? But the experiment isn't until tomorrow—"

"You know tomorrow is the exact date?" William irritably straightened his robe and called out to the empty space in the room, "Bart, could you prepare a fruit basket for me? Put it on the bill and send it to me along with my payslip at the beginning of next month."

In just three to five minutes, Bart appeared in the room carrying a fruit basket.

It was a beautifully packaged fruit basket, one that most shops couldn't produce—the elves' skill in housework was no joke.

“Professor, here’s your fruit basket. The kitchen is preparing the bill,” the elf placed the basket on the table. “Is there anything else you need Bart to do?”

“Pre-order some for me—never mind, I’ll do that myself,” William smiled and nodded at the elf. “Thank you, Bart.”

“Yes, Professor,” the elf bowed and left, leaving Adams looking astonished.

“No,” Adams looked at the fruit basket, then at William, “the kitchen offers this service? I’ve been at Hogwarts for seven years, not exactly teaching, and this is the first time I’ve heard of a kitchen offering fruit baskets!”

“People always make mistakes in the places they think they know best,” William said, picking up the fruit basket and turning to the mirror to check himself for any impropriety. “Everyone does, Adams.”

"Okay, maybe you're right."

Adams shrugged.

'That's about all it's good for. I spent ages researching that professor, and all I found were examples of him using facilities like the kitchen or library for convenience. There were some useful things, but they were all buried under the endless stream of bills—'