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Chapter 102: Notebook and Fanged Frisbee
"Good morning, Adams. I'm planning a trip to Gringotts today. Care to join?"
"No, I have other things to do."
"A date? That can't be right. You're at the school all day, and I haven't seen a single owl looking for you—don't tell me you've made a move on a student? That's a major taboo! Aren't you afraid Professor McGonagall will kill you?"
Although Dumbledore was widely considered number one in the castle, both professors and students clearly understood one truth: in this castle, the one whose word was law was Minerva.
"Shut up—William."
Adams grouchily poked the fried egg on his plate, his face a mask of displeasure.
"A whole report—why is reversing a point deduction so much harder than giving one? Can't the school improve those magical hourglasses for adding points?"
'Is reporting cheating on an exam and retracting the accusation the same level of difficulty? Besides, that thing is an antique from when the school was founded. Since there's never been a problem with it, who would dare take it apart to fix it? What if they couldn't put it back together?'
But this kind of grumbling was clearly not suitable to be spoken aloud—just like that Sorting Hat that hadn't been washed in nearly a thousand years, who knew if after a thousand years this system might also have become sentient? What if it held a grudge?
If Hogwarts's point system stopped responding to a professor's attempts to add or deduct points, but remained unchanged for others, most people would probably think the school should expel that professor rather than replace the magical hourglasses—nothing like that has ever happened in the school's nearly thousand-year history. Who could stand against a thousand years of precedent?
"Calm down, Adams. Ultimately, your mistake was just too severe. You should have canceled it when you reported the incident, but you forgot. After so much time has passed, writing a report isn't asking too much."
William patted him on the shoulder and offered a final, sympathetic glance.
—
"Mr. William, this is your vault."
The goblin from Gringotts was very polite—but William no longer had the energy to thank him.
If this goblin named Key was male, as William assumed, then William would give the gentleman full marks for his service—it was just that he was now barely suppressing the urge to vomit.
'Was this underground vault's transport system inspired by roller coasters? Even *Need for Speed* wouldn't dare to drive like this!'
After finally regaining some strength, William quickly pulled a peppermint from his pocket and put it in his mouth, trying to suppress the nausea.
Half an hour ago, when he arrived at Diagon Alley using Floo powder, he had complained that its comfort perfectly matched its low price—but only after arriving at the Gringotts underground vaults did he understand that even if you bet your entire fortune, you'd still get motion sickness in the wizarding world if you were prone to it.
"Are you alright? If you're ready, I can open the vault door for you now."
"Alright, thank you."
William responded with difficulty. The mere thought of having to take the same transport back made him afraid to relax, lest he lose the courage to return.
Key unhesitatingly used a key to open the lock, and then William saw his very own property for the first time.
'Knuts, Knuts, and more Knuts.'
The piles of bronze coins weren't very high. Although the original owner had tried to make his vault look like more than a savings account opened with a single coin, it was no exaggeration to describe the place as barren.
'All of this combined isn't as much as I brought out of Azkaban.'
William estimated the weight of the Knuts and gained a profoundly new understanding of his own poverty.
Fortunately, there were some other items—a dozen or so experiment logs, seven or eight magic books, and some well-packaged potions equipment whose quality couldn't be discerned at the moment. If William remembered correctly, this set of equipment, including a cauldron, was custom-made.
Anyway, William was carrying a bag enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, so he simply stuffed everything inside.
"Alright, that's everything. Let's go back now."
William endured his fear to make this rather brave statement. The goblin named Key had no intention of lingering and immediately drove the cart, speeding William upwards.
Perhaps it was because the return journey was uphill, which significantly reduced William's motion sickness. He began to have enough energy to pay attention to the goblin driving the cart.
"Does everyone who comes to Gringotts have to use this system to go up and down?"
"Of course. This is the most comprehensive security system," Key said with a hint of pride. "The vaults of the most ancient families are at the very bottom. No one can get past Gringotts's defenses and break in! Even using this system, the journey takes a very long time, nothing like the short, less-than-ten-minute trip to the surface-level vaults."
As if he had realized something, he added, "Of course, the top is just as secure."
'As expected, the poor are always looked down on. My apologies for having a vault at the very top!'
William rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was pitch black all around anyway, so he didn't need to hide his expression.
—
"William? Back from Gringotts? I've finished my report and have some time. Want to go out for a drink?"
When William emerged from the fireplace again, only Adams was in the staff room—not every professor was so lucky as to have to rush reports on a weekend.
"No, thank you. I just got back from picking things up from Gringotts. I need to go back and organize them. Let's do it another day."
William's mind was set on reviewing the experiment logs, so he didn't even consider going to Old Tom for a drink. He politely declined Adams's invitation.
"Picking things up?"
Adams paused, then a mischievous smile spread across his face.
"Ah, no need to be so nervous. In any case, storing *those* at Gringotts is a bit much. Even Professor McGonagall has never confiscated them from a House's common room. At most, a prefect might take one from a younger student."
"Huh? Does the school even regulate students' self-study of potions? Prefects even confiscate cauldrons?"
William put on a pure and surprised expression.
"Cauldrons? You're talking about cauldrons?"
Adams was stunned.
"Yes. What were *you* talking about?"
William wore the expression of an innocent newbie.
"I was talking about—a Fanged Frisbee."
Adams finally managed to utter the name after a long pause, then realized something was off and started to reach for his wand.
"Are you serious, Professor Adams? Before you stands the professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Our class primarily teaches students how to fight."
William said this with a completely straight face.
Adams put away his wand, then turned and walked away. At the doorway, he turned back. "William?"
"Yes?"
In response, Adams gave him the middle finger.
P.S. That's all for tonight. There will be more tomorrow during the day.
(end of chapter)
"Good morning, Adams. I'm planning a trip to Gringotts today. Care to join?"
"No, I have other things to do."
"A date? That can't be right. You're at the school all day, and I haven't seen a single owl looking for you—don't tell me you've made a move on a student? That's a major taboo! Aren't you afraid Professor McGonagall will kill you?"
Although Dumbledore was widely considered number one in the castle, both professors and students clearly understood one truth: in this castle, the one whose word was law was Minerva.
"Shut up—William."
Adams grouchily poked the fried egg on his plate, his face a mask of displeasure.
"A whole report—why is reversing a point deduction so much harder than giving one? Can't the school improve those magical hourglasses for adding points?"
'Is reporting cheating on an exam and retracting the accusation the same level of difficulty? Besides, that thing is an antique from when the school was founded. Since there's never been a problem with it, who would dare take it apart to fix it? What if they couldn't put it back together?'
But this kind of grumbling was clearly not suitable to be spoken aloud—just like that Sorting Hat that hadn't been washed in nearly a thousand years, who knew if after a thousand years this system might also have become sentient? What if it held a grudge?
If Hogwarts's point system stopped responding to a professor's attempts to add or deduct points, but remained unchanged for others, most people would probably think the school should expel that professor rather than replace the magical hourglasses—nothing like that has ever happened in the school's nearly thousand-year history. Who could stand against a thousand years of precedent?
"Calm down, Adams. Ultimately, your mistake was just too severe. You should have canceled it when you reported the incident, but you forgot. After so much time has passed, writing a report isn't asking too much."
William patted him on the shoulder and offered a final, sympathetic glance.
—
"Mr. William, this is your vault."
The goblin from Gringotts was very polite—but William no longer had the energy to thank him.
If this goblin named Key was male, as William assumed, then William would give the gentleman full marks for his service—it was just that he was now barely suppressing the urge to vomit.
'Was this underground vault's transport system inspired by roller coasters? Even *Need for Speed* wouldn't dare to drive like this!'
After finally regaining some strength, William quickly pulled a peppermint from his pocket and put it in his mouth, trying to suppress the nausea.
Half an hour ago, when he arrived at Diagon Alley using Floo powder, he had complained that its comfort perfectly matched its low price—but only after arriving at the Gringotts underground vaults did he understand that even if you bet your entire fortune, you'd still get motion sickness in the wizarding world if you were prone to it.
"Are you alright? If you're ready, I can open the vault door for you now."
"Alright, thank you."
William responded with difficulty. The mere thought of having to take the same transport back made him afraid to relax, lest he lose the courage to return.
Key unhesitatingly used a key to open the lock, and then William saw his very own property for the first time.
'Knuts, Knuts, and more Knuts.'
The piles of bronze coins weren't very high. Although the original owner had tried to make his vault look like more than a savings account opened with a single coin, it was no exaggeration to describe the place as barren.
'All of this combined isn't as much as I brought out of Azkaban.'
William estimated the weight of the Knuts and gained a profoundly new understanding of his own poverty.
Fortunately, there were some other items—a dozen or so experiment logs, seven or eight magic books, and some well-packaged potions equipment whose quality couldn't be discerned at the moment. If William remembered correctly, this set of equipment, including a cauldron, was custom-made.
Anyway, William was carrying a bag enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, so he simply stuffed everything inside.
"Alright, that's everything. Let's go back now."
William endured his fear to make this rather brave statement. The goblin named Key had no intention of lingering and immediately drove the cart, speeding William upwards.
Perhaps it was because the return journey was uphill, which significantly reduced William's motion sickness. He began to have enough energy to pay attention to the goblin driving the cart.
"Does everyone who comes to Gringotts have to use this system to go up and down?"
"Of course. This is the most comprehensive security system," Key said with a hint of pride. "The vaults of the most ancient families are at the very bottom. No one can get past Gringotts's defenses and break in! Even using this system, the journey takes a very long time, nothing like the short, less-than-ten-minute trip to the surface-level vaults."
As if he had realized something, he added, "Of course, the top is just as secure."
'As expected, the poor are always looked down on. My apologies for having a vault at the very top!'
William rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was pitch black all around anyway, so he didn't need to hide his expression.
—
"William? Back from Gringotts? I've finished my report and have some time. Want to go out for a drink?"
When William emerged from the fireplace again, only Adams was in the staff room—not every professor was so lucky as to have to rush reports on a weekend.
"No, thank you. I just got back from picking things up from Gringotts. I need to go back and organize them. Let's do it another day."
William's mind was set on reviewing the experiment logs, so he didn't even consider going to Old Tom for a drink. He politely declined Adams's invitation.
"Picking things up?"
Adams paused, then a mischievous smile spread across his face.
"Ah, no need to be so nervous. In any case, storing *those* at Gringotts is a bit much. Even Professor McGonagall has never confiscated them from a House's common room. At most, a prefect might take one from a younger student."
"Huh? Does the school even regulate students' self-study of potions? Prefects even confiscate cauldrons?"
William put on a pure and surprised expression.
"Cauldrons? You're talking about cauldrons?"
Adams was stunned.
"Yes. What were *you* talking about?"
William wore the expression of an innocent newbie.
"I was talking about—a Fanged Frisbee."
Adams finally managed to utter the name after a long pause, then realized something was off and started to reach for his wand.
"Are you serious, Professor Adams? Before you stands the professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Our class primarily teaches students how to fight."
William said this with a completely straight face.
Adams put away his wand, then turned and walked away. At the doorway, he turned back. "William?"
"Yes?"
In response, Adams gave him the middle finger.
P.S. That's all for tonight. There will be more tomorrow during the day.
(end of chapter)
