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chapter 158 part 3
"Where's the Trunk?"
After sending off the now cheerful little girl, William waited for a while but received no notification from the System. After some speculation, he came to a conclusion—his half-day's work of persuasion had been for naught. He had been completely used by that mischievous child.
'Forget it—at least I figured out a difficult point in Transfiguration, so it wasn't a total loss,' William thought, reaching for his pocket but stopping his hand midway. 'No more. I've had enough candy for today.'
'Sigh, I wonder how Adams is doing with that explanation for me—holing up in the office to research Transfiguration is no easy task.' Scratching his head, William yawned and turned the book to the second page.
Speak of the devil. Before William could solve the next problem, Adams's voice sounded from the office doorway.
"William!"
"I'm in here," William replied with a yawn. "Come in, Adams."
"It's handled. They went to find Dumbledore." Adams didn't even wait to sit down properly after entering, his face beaming as he announced the good news to William.
...
*Adams, you'd get beaten to death by the Warden for that in Azkaban.* William complained weakly in his mind, conveniently forgetting his own actions of passing the buck just moments ago.
"Why are you so tired—were you reading the History of Magic?"
As he asked, Adams skillfully rummaged through William's pile of books, and in no time, he found the preserved fruit William had stashed inside.
'You've only been here three or four times, how are you better at finding things than I am?' William took out a bookmark and placed it between the pages. "No, I came across some extracurricular reading. I couldn't figure it out right away. As for the History of Magic, I only skim it for the general idea, so it's not that difficult."
"Spoken like a truly practical Wizard. I bet Professor Binns wouldn't approve of your views," Adams said, tossing a small pouch over. "These are the herbs commonly used to treat Phoenix feathers. I brought you some, in case they spoil from improper storage and lose their medicinal properties."
Right, the ingredients still needed to be processed. Having never used such advanced materials before, William was suddenly reminded of the theory section he had read previously.
What was he thinking back then?
Ah, yes—'You can't get fat from one bite. Practicality is key. For high-level potion ingredients, a brief look at the processing method is enough. It's not needed for teaching, and even less so in reality. I can save the time to look at other things.'
'I never imagined a school like Hogwarts would be this ridiculously well-equipped!'
"Thanks, Adams," William said, pulling open a drawer and stuffing the herbs inside. "Speaking of which, how are things going with you and Hagrid?"
William was referring to the cause of this whole incident, the thread running through the entire investigation—the roosters.
As far as he knew, Hagrid had bought a whole flock of roosters, and Adams, as the chef, had been constantly messing around with them alongside Hagrid.
"Still puzzling over it. We haven't figured out what was written on that parchment. Miss Ginny Weasley has lost almost all her memory from that period. We still don't understand what kind of strange ritual would use rooster blood as an ingredient."
Adams clutched his hair in frustration, clearly having been vexed by this matter for some time.
"You guys?"
"Yeah, me and Hagrid. We thought about it for a long time, and then we placed a ton of protective charms on the chicken coop to prevent anyone from stealing the roosters' blood," Adams said with great seriousness, as if he were guarding priceless treasures instead of a coop full of chickens.
One who barely passed his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam (William subconsciously changed the course name), the other a half-blood giant who didn't even have a wand—although William knew it was wrong, he almost burst out laughing.
But even his suppressed laughter was noticed by Adams.
"Fine," Adams muttered resentfully. "Laugh if you want. I often laugh at that idiot Singeade for being completely clueless about caring for herbs. And you, of course. I bet the two of you can't even tell the difference between Devil's Snare and a regular bouquet of flowers."
...
William was cornered—he really couldn't tell the difference. When his Smuggling Team encountered complex vines, they would just test them with a stone and fire. If it moved, it was Devil's Snare; if it didn't, it was a normal plant.
And since this dangerous plant itself couldn't be used in potions, William had never bothered to research it.
"See? Besides, it's not like Hagrid and I haven't studied protection." Adams raised an eyebrow. "You've been at the school for a while now. You must have heard about what happened with Professor Quirrell last year, right?"
...
'How could I have forgotten?'
William wanted to slap himself. Although the death of the previous Professor was something he was reluctant to investigate, it was a matter of life and death. He should have asked the students for all the information about that Professor Quirrell!
"There are some things the students don't know clearly; they only know a part of it. Of course, the information is rather chaotic, so what I know isn't entirely clear either," Adams said, likely misinterpreting William's expression. "As you know, Professor Quirrell died, but the situation at the time was very complicated."
"William, you won't tell anyone else, will you?"
Adams stopped his description and stared into William's eyes.
"Of course. I won't tell the students or Professor Lockhart, nor will I tell anyone off-campus."
William replied with utmost seriousness. The other professors were on permanent contracts and wouldn't casually speak of Hogwarts's affairs to outsiders. Only he and Professor Lockhart, though nominally on permanent contracts, were known by everyone to be in a different situation.
Especially Professor Lockhart, a famous author who would write about anything in his books. It was understandable that some internal school information was kept hidden.
"Good. William, you probably know that Professor Quirrell died at the final mechanism guarding the Philosopher's Stone, but the problem back then wasn't so simple. As far as I know, the one possessing Quirrell was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Adams lowered his voice, speaking softly.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? You mean the Dark Lord?"
The strange title momentarily threw William off, but he quickly realized it was related to what Dumbledore had told him.
"That's right," Adams nodded. "As expected of a Professor of that course, a master of Dark Magic. William, you have to be careful not to say that in front of the students."
'How would I know? That's a common term among Azkaban prisoners. I've barely heard the name 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' since entering the Wizarding World.'
"Mm, I'll do my best to be careful, Adams," William nodded. "So, the Philosopher's Stone was protected?"
'Wait, the Philosopher's Stone?'
Only when the name came out of his own mouth did William realize something was wrong. The Philosopher's Stone he had heard about from Hagrid on his first day at school had appeared again, and the Dark Lord worshipped by those in the deepest parts of Azkaban had also shown up?
"It was protected, but the mechanisms were mostly figured out. Only the last line of defense managed to buy some time. Of course, the first mechanism also played a big role—it was set up by Hagrid."
The massive amount of information sent William's thoughts into a state of chaos. Fortunately, Hagrid had mentioned the Philosopher's Stone once, so he was somewhat mentally prepared.
"Set up by Hagrid?"
"Where's the Trunk?"
After sending off the now cheerful little girl, William waited for a while but received no notification from the System. After some speculation, he came to a conclusion—his half-day's work of persuasion had been for naught. He had been completely used by that mischievous child.
'Forget it—at least I figured out a difficult point in Transfiguration, so it wasn't a total loss,' William thought, reaching for his pocket but stopping his hand midway. 'No more. I've had enough candy for today.'
'Sigh, I wonder how Adams is doing with that explanation for me—holing up in the office to research Transfiguration is no easy task.' Scratching his head, William yawned and turned the book to the second page.
Speak of the devil. Before William could solve the next problem, Adams's voice sounded from the office doorway.
"William!"
"I'm in here," William replied with a yawn. "Come in, Adams."
"It's handled. They went to find Dumbledore." Adams didn't even wait to sit down properly after entering, his face beaming as he announced the good news to William.
...
*Adams, you'd get beaten to death by the Warden for that in Azkaban.* William complained weakly in his mind, conveniently forgetting his own actions of passing the buck just moments ago.
"Why are you so tired—were you reading the History of Magic?"
As he asked, Adams skillfully rummaged through William's pile of books, and in no time, he found the preserved fruit William had stashed inside.
'You've only been here three or four times, how are you better at finding things than I am?' William took out a bookmark and placed it between the pages. "No, I came across some extracurricular reading. I couldn't figure it out right away. As for the History of Magic, I only skim it for the general idea, so it's not that difficult."
"Spoken like a truly practical Wizard. I bet Professor Binns wouldn't approve of your views," Adams said, tossing a small pouch over. "These are the herbs commonly used to treat Phoenix feathers. I brought you some, in case they spoil from improper storage and lose their medicinal properties."
Right, the ingredients still needed to be processed. Having never used such advanced materials before, William was suddenly reminded of the theory section he had read previously.
What was he thinking back then?
Ah, yes—'You can't get fat from one bite. Practicality is key. For high-level potion ingredients, a brief look at the processing method is enough. It's not needed for teaching, and even less so in reality. I can save the time to look at other things.'
'I never imagined a school like Hogwarts would be this ridiculously well-equipped!'
"Thanks, Adams," William said, pulling open a drawer and stuffing the herbs inside. "Speaking of which, how are things going with you and Hagrid?"
William was referring to the cause of this whole incident, the thread running through the entire investigation—the roosters.
As far as he knew, Hagrid had bought a whole flock of roosters, and Adams, as the chef, had been constantly messing around with them alongside Hagrid.
"Still puzzling over it. We haven't figured out what was written on that parchment. Miss Ginny Weasley has lost almost all her memory from that period. We still don't understand what kind of strange ritual would use rooster blood as an ingredient."
Adams clutched his hair in frustration, clearly having been vexed by this matter for some time.
"You guys?"
"Yeah, me and Hagrid. We thought about it for a long time, and then we placed a ton of protective charms on the chicken coop to prevent anyone from stealing the roosters' blood," Adams said with great seriousness, as if he were guarding priceless treasures instead of a coop full of chickens.
One who barely passed his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam (William subconsciously changed the course name), the other a half-blood giant who didn't even have a wand—although William knew it was wrong, he almost burst out laughing.
But even his suppressed laughter was noticed by Adams.
"Fine," Adams muttered resentfully. "Laugh if you want. I often laugh at that idiot Singeade for being completely clueless about caring for herbs. And you, of course. I bet the two of you can't even tell the difference between Devil's Snare and a regular bouquet of flowers."
...
William was cornered—he really couldn't tell the difference. When his Smuggling Team encountered complex vines, they would just test them with a stone and fire. If it moved, it was Devil's Snare; if it didn't, it was a normal plant.
And since this dangerous plant itself couldn't be used in potions, William had never bothered to research it.
"See? Besides, it's not like Hagrid and I haven't studied protection." Adams raised an eyebrow. "You've been at the school for a while now. You must have heard about what happened with Professor Quirrell last year, right?"
...
'How could I have forgotten?'
William wanted to slap himself. Although the death of the previous Professor was something he was reluctant to investigate, it was a matter of life and death. He should have asked the students for all the information about that Professor Quirrell!
"There are some things the students don't know clearly; they only know a part of it. Of course, the information is rather chaotic, so what I know isn't entirely clear either," Adams said, likely misinterpreting William's expression. "As you know, Professor Quirrell died, but the situation at the time was very complicated."
"William, you won't tell anyone else, will you?"
Adams stopped his description and stared into William's eyes.
"Of course. I won't tell the students or Professor Lockhart, nor will I tell anyone off-campus."
William replied with utmost seriousness. The other professors were on permanent contracts and wouldn't casually speak of Hogwarts's affairs to outsiders. Only he and Professor Lockhart, though nominally on permanent contracts, were known by everyone to be in a different situation.
Especially Professor Lockhart, a famous author who would write about anything in his books. It was understandable that some internal school information was kept hidden.
"Good. William, you probably know that Professor Quirrell died at the final mechanism guarding the Philosopher's Stone, but the problem back then wasn't so simple. As far as I know, the one possessing Quirrell was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Adams lowered his voice, speaking softly.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? You mean the Dark Lord?"
The strange title momentarily threw William off, but he quickly realized it was related to what Dumbledore had told him.
"That's right," Adams nodded. "As expected of a Professor of that course, a master of Dark Magic. William, you have to be careful not to say that in front of the students."
'How would I know? That's a common term among Azkaban prisoners. I've barely heard the name 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' since entering the Wizarding World.'
"Mm, I'll do my best to be careful, Adams," William nodded. "So, the Philosopher's Stone was protected?"
'Wait, the Philosopher's Stone?'
Only when the name came out of his own mouth did William realize something was wrong. The Philosopher's Stone he had heard about from Hagrid on his first day at school had appeared again, and the Dark Lord worshipped by those in the deepest parts of Azkaban had also shown up?
"It was protected, but the mechanisms were mostly figured out. Only the last line of defense managed to buy some time. Of course, the first mechanism also played a big role—it was set up by Hagrid."
The massive amount of information sent William's thoughts into a state of chaos. Fortunately, Hagrid had mentioned the Philosopher's Stone once, so he was somewhat mentally prepared.
"Set up by Hagrid?"
