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Chapter 122: Another Dead Chicken?
Friday afternoon, in the Staff Room.
A few professors with no classes were playing wizard chess, while William idly picked up a book on Transfiguration to read. In theory, he should have been reading more about things related to his profession, but ever since Professor Singeade's hair-growth potion incident, he had suddenly realized that his understanding of the Wizarding World's common sense was still far too limited.
Although there was theoretically no quick way to improve one's grasp of such common sense, William still felt he should dabble in books from other subjects to broaden his knowledge.
‘Why is Transfiguration so difficult?’
In theory, this Transfiguration book should have been a basic reader for a third-year, but for William, reading it felt a bit like reading a book on C Language: from introduction to interment.
The magical foundation he had received was a mixed education of Potions and some Dark Magic. Before enrolling, his self-study had been focused on the now-renamed Self-Defense Arts, which offered the greatest improvement to his self-preservation ability. Transfiguration was indeed proving to be a bit difficult for him to improve upon.
He had breezed through the first and second-year curriculum, but the third-year course material wasn't so easy for him to grasp.
"Perhaps I should go to the library and look for some reference books?"
This thought surfaced in William's mind—even for the same content, different textbooks would have different points of emphasis. This was true for any subject.
Just as he was about to act on this idea, the door to the Staff Room suddenly swung open.
"Adams, back from the chicken run?"
From within the crowd gathered around the wizard chess game, Singeade popped his head out.
Unfortunately, this taunt no longer worked—the Herbology professor was already able to ignore this level of ridicule.
However, today, William had guessed wrong.
"Stop wrongfully accusing people all the time, Singeade. Your biggest flaw is your tendency to make wild assumptions."
Adams wagged his finger, a look of contempt on his face.
‘Hmm?’
William, who had been about to leave after a simple greeting, was immediately captivated by the unfolding plot. Watching for just a little while wouldn't be a waste of time, right?
"We spent half the day building a larger chicken coop and cast several protective charms on it. Now we don't have to worry about any strange creatures killing the chickens."
"Was that necessary? Can those magical creatures even eat faster than you?"
Singeade landed a direct critical hit.
"That's because we Hufflepuffs all have a knack for cooking. Of course, good food sells fast."
Adams wore a proud expression.
"Eh? Didn't the attack happen on Monday? Hasn't Hagrid caught the animal that killed the rooster yet?"
Because Monday's incident had caused quite a stir, the professors present all knew what had led to the students collectively sporting dark circles under their eyes.
Hagrid had been the Keeper of Grounds for longer than most of the professors had been employed, so they were all quite surprised that he hadn't caught the mischievous animal.
‘It would be a miracle if he could. It was most likely done by the Weasley Twins. How can you catch someone when there's no evidence?’
William lowered his head to hide his expression—even if he had reached a conclusion, it would be wrong to tell the other professors without any proof.
"No, not only was it not caught, but the last rooster was also killed."
"The last one?"
"That's right. It happened this morning. The poor chicken was already dead when I got there. Otherwise, we wouldn't have spent so much time fixing up the chicken coop."
Adams said regretfully—clearly, he was disappointed that he hadn't been able to slaughter that chicken himself.
"The last one? You all eat that many?"
Singeade immediately found the blind spot, and things grew lively. The Staff Room was instantly filled with a cheerful atmosphere. Adams tried to explain that one chicken wasn't enough for Hagrid, and then that they ate frequently, but he couldn't hide anything under Singeade's sharp eye.
Amidst their merrymaking, William tucked the book under his arm and left the Staff Room.
---
‘What did I miss? Or were the Weasley Twins not satisfied with just one act of sabotage and decided to do it again?’
Countless thoughts swirled in William's mind, but he decided not to speculate any further—his last assumption seemed to have been wrong.
"It's not a good time to ask Adams. With a group of professors around, the questions would likely get derailed by Singeade and the others. While it's nice to have a laugh on a normal day, the atmosphere over there right now is clearly not suitable for an investigation."
William walked briskly through the corridor. He planned to ask Hagrid first—hopefully, he could get some different information this time.
"Hagrid! Hagrid!"
William shouted outside Hagrid's Hut.
"William! Good afternoon! I'm headin' out for a bit. Wanna come along? I remember you don't have class."
Hagrid peeked his head out, dressed in a rather comical-looking getup. William could bet that with the bag on his back and the cage in his hands, if he was going to catch rabbits, it would be enough to supply a lesson for the entire school.
"I don't have class, no, but right now—well, there's something I wanted to ask you."
William chose his words carefully, hoping his question would make Hagrid take this a bit more seriously.
"Alright, you're being a bit too serious. Anyway, I've already placed an order by owl. Come on in and sit for a bit. I think we have enough time to talk."
He gave a comical wave of his hand, placed the cage on the ground, and led William into the hut.
"I learned quite a few recipes from Professor Adams this week—some are even magical recipes, which aren't easy to learn. If you're free this weekend, I'll show you what I can do."
Hagrid muttered as he started searching for a teacup.
‘If I remember correctly, Adams said the last rooster died today? He’s not going to buy more already, is he?’
"So, you're going to buy roosters?"
"That's right. I'm preparing to buy a lot more. I've ordered quite a few this time."
Hagrid nonchalantly placed a teacup on the table.
"I heard from Adams that a rooster died today?"
"Yep, exactly the same as last time. Professor Adams helped me reinforce the chicken coop and even used the magical creature repelling method they often use in the greenhouse. I also set up some traps to scare off any small critters that might come around. The roosters should be safe when they arrive this time."
It seemed Adams had done a good job on the chicken coop; at least Hagrid was quite satisfied.
But that wasn't what William had come to investigate.
"Hmm, was there anything different about this attack compared to the last one? Like the marks, the method, the amount of blood lost?"
"What method could there be? It's the same as before. The head was bitten off, and all the blood was gone. If I didn't know vampires don't drink chicken blood, I'd suspect it was a vampire!"
Hagrid said casually. He seemed even less concerned about it than last time.
It made sense—after all, they had eaten over a dozen roosters in a week. For just one dead chicken, with its edible parts still intact, what was there to be shocked about?
If William himself didn't have a curse on him, he wouldn't have cared either. Besides, it wasn't poisoned and was still edible. It wasn't even enough for a full meal, so what was there to worry about?
(end of chapter)
Friday afternoon, in the Staff Room.
A few professors with no classes were playing wizard chess, while William idly picked up a book on Transfiguration to read. In theory, he should have been reading more about things related to his profession, but ever since Professor Singeade's hair-growth potion incident, he had suddenly realized that his understanding of the Wizarding World's common sense was still far too limited.
Although there was theoretically no quick way to improve one's grasp of such common sense, William still felt he should dabble in books from other subjects to broaden his knowledge.
‘Why is Transfiguration so difficult?’
In theory, this Transfiguration book should have been a basic reader for a third-year, but for William, reading it felt a bit like reading a book on C Language: from introduction to interment.
The magical foundation he had received was a mixed education of Potions and some Dark Magic. Before enrolling, his self-study had been focused on the now-renamed Self-Defense Arts, which offered the greatest improvement to his self-preservation ability. Transfiguration was indeed proving to be a bit difficult for him to improve upon.
He had breezed through the first and second-year curriculum, but the third-year course material wasn't so easy for him to grasp.
"Perhaps I should go to the library and look for some reference books?"
This thought surfaced in William's mind—even for the same content, different textbooks would have different points of emphasis. This was true for any subject.
Just as he was about to act on this idea, the door to the Staff Room suddenly swung open.
"Adams, back from the chicken run?"
From within the crowd gathered around the wizard chess game, Singeade popped his head out.
Unfortunately, this taunt no longer worked—the Herbology professor was already able to ignore this level of ridicule.
However, today, William had guessed wrong.
"Stop wrongfully accusing people all the time, Singeade. Your biggest flaw is your tendency to make wild assumptions."
Adams wagged his finger, a look of contempt on his face.
‘Hmm?’
William, who had been about to leave after a simple greeting, was immediately captivated by the unfolding plot. Watching for just a little while wouldn't be a waste of time, right?
"We spent half the day building a larger chicken coop and cast several protective charms on it. Now we don't have to worry about any strange creatures killing the chickens."
"Was that necessary? Can those magical creatures even eat faster than you?"
Singeade landed a direct critical hit.
"That's because we Hufflepuffs all have a knack for cooking. Of course, good food sells fast."
Adams wore a proud expression.
"Eh? Didn't the attack happen on Monday? Hasn't Hagrid caught the animal that killed the rooster yet?"
Because Monday's incident had caused quite a stir, the professors present all knew what had led to the students collectively sporting dark circles under their eyes.
Hagrid had been the Keeper of Grounds for longer than most of the professors had been employed, so they were all quite surprised that he hadn't caught the mischievous animal.
‘It would be a miracle if he could. It was most likely done by the Weasley Twins. How can you catch someone when there's no evidence?’
William lowered his head to hide his expression—even if he had reached a conclusion, it would be wrong to tell the other professors without any proof.
"No, not only was it not caught, but the last rooster was also killed."
"The last one?"
"That's right. It happened this morning. The poor chicken was already dead when I got there. Otherwise, we wouldn't have spent so much time fixing up the chicken coop."
Adams said regretfully—clearly, he was disappointed that he hadn't been able to slaughter that chicken himself.
"The last one? You all eat that many?"
Singeade immediately found the blind spot, and things grew lively. The Staff Room was instantly filled with a cheerful atmosphere. Adams tried to explain that one chicken wasn't enough for Hagrid, and then that they ate frequently, but he couldn't hide anything under Singeade's sharp eye.
Amidst their merrymaking, William tucked the book under his arm and left the Staff Room.
---
‘What did I miss? Or were the Weasley Twins not satisfied with just one act of sabotage and decided to do it again?’
Countless thoughts swirled in William's mind, but he decided not to speculate any further—his last assumption seemed to have been wrong.
"It's not a good time to ask Adams. With a group of professors around, the questions would likely get derailed by Singeade and the others. While it's nice to have a laugh on a normal day, the atmosphere over there right now is clearly not suitable for an investigation."
William walked briskly through the corridor. He planned to ask Hagrid first—hopefully, he could get some different information this time.
"Hagrid! Hagrid!"
William shouted outside Hagrid's Hut.
"William! Good afternoon! I'm headin' out for a bit. Wanna come along? I remember you don't have class."
Hagrid peeked his head out, dressed in a rather comical-looking getup. William could bet that with the bag on his back and the cage in his hands, if he was going to catch rabbits, it would be enough to supply a lesson for the entire school.
"I don't have class, no, but right now—well, there's something I wanted to ask you."
William chose his words carefully, hoping his question would make Hagrid take this a bit more seriously.
"Alright, you're being a bit too serious. Anyway, I've already placed an order by owl. Come on in and sit for a bit. I think we have enough time to talk."
He gave a comical wave of his hand, placed the cage on the ground, and led William into the hut.
"I learned quite a few recipes from Professor Adams this week—some are even magical recipes, which aren't easy to learn. If you're free this weekend, I'll show you what I can do."
Hagrid muttered as he started searching for a teacup.
‘If I remember correctly, Adams said the last rooster died today? He’s not going to buy more already, is he?’
"So, you're going to buy roosters?"
"That's right. I'm preparing to buy a lot more. I've ordered quite a few this time."
Hagrid nonchalantly placed a teacup on the table.
"I heard from Adams that a rooster died today?"
"Yep, exactly the same as last time. Professor Adams helped me reinforce the chicken coop and even used the magical creature repelling method they often use in the greenhouse. I also set up some traps to scare off any small critters that might come around. The roosters should be safe when they arrive this time."
It seemed Adams had done a good job on the chicken coop; at least Hagrid was quite satisfied.
But that wasn't what William had come to investigate.
"Hmm, was there anything different about this attack compared to the last one? Like the marks, the method, the amount of blood lost?"
"What method could there be? It's the same as before. The head was bitten off, and all the blood was gone. If I didn't know vampires don't drink chicken blood, I'd suspect it was a vampire!"
Hagrid said casually. He seemed even less concerned about it than last time.
It made sense—after all, they had eaten over a dozen roosters in a week. For just one dead chicken, with its edible parts still intact, what was there to be shocked about?
If William himself didn't have a curse on him, he wouldn't have cared either. Besides, it wasn't poisoned and was still edible. It wasn't even enough for a full meal, so what was there to worry about?
(end of chapter)
