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chapter 160 part 2
'You're all mature seventh-year students. Can't you think about things adults should be thinking about? Like careers and love?'
William looked at the circle of students around him with an expression of profound disappointment, only to find their eyes more focused than ever.
'If there's really something wrong with that Diadem and it has to be destroyed, can it even *be* destroyed?'
The question suddenly appeared in William's mind, but he forced himself to ignore it. To put it bluntly, even if he were asked to destroy the Diadem, he probably didn't have the strength to do it.
'I can't even figure out what's wrong with it—what does destroying it have to do with me? I'd probably be killed by some hidden trap on it before I even tried.'
"You all like the Diadem?"
William asked softly.
"Of course!"
The students replied in unison, their voices filled with confidence.
"Supreme wisdom," William said, looking around at the students. "Who could dislike that? But there is always a cost—nothing in the Wizarding World comes for free. I'm not talking about obtaining the Diadem, but about the wisdom it brings."
"If gaining wisdom from the Diadem requires a cost, then what might that cost be?"
William clapped his hands sharply, his voice quickening. "Now! Everyone! Immediately write down your speculations. Imagine what the Diadem might demand as payment and hand it in. If any of you can write down a cost that I haven't thought of, you might very well get to touch that Diadem before graduation. But if none of you come up with anything original, then I'm afraid—"
William glanced at everyone. "—you might lose your only chance to ever touch it."
Without another word, every student pulled paper and pen from their backpack and began writing furiously.
"Be original, and be brief—anyone who tries to use clever wordplay is immediately disqualified!"
William added the rule directly, but no one complained in the slightest.
'Their obsession with the Diadem is a bit surprising, but at least it segues into the lesson.'
William stood up and scanned the students.
He had originally planned to talk about the concept of cost. Many magical traps succeeded in harming wizards not because of how well-hidden they were, but because the bait on the trap was tempting enough. Since seventh-year students would soon be entering the Wizarding World to work, William planned to properly impart his observations of the Wizarding World to his students.
'Even though I've only been in this so-called Wizarding World for almost a year, my experience in Azkaban is enough to last me—and these kids—half a lifetime. There was just too much darkness there, too many setbacks...'
William sighed and started to mull over the issue of the Diadem. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, his name was now inextricably linked to the discovered Diadem.
'A single perspective is limited. Perhaps these wizards, who are theoretically already of age, will have some different ideas—'
'A Diadem that grants unprecedented wisdom and was treasured by Ravenclaw herself surely can't be as terrifying as I'm making it out to be. But who knows what kind of magic has been added to it. What if one of these students has a stroke of genius and guesses correctly?'
But regardless of whether they guessed correctly or not, William planned to just toss the reports to Dumbledore and be done with it. Perhaps one of the students would inspire the Headmaster. It was only a matter of who got to use the Diadem; since it was a windfall for William, he wouldn't feel bad about giving it away.
It would be great if there was a helpful hint, but it was no loss if there wasn't. In any case, William wasn't going to be the one grading this exam paper.
---
"Everyone finished? I'll be sending these to Dumbledore for his personal judgment. If you don't pass, don't say I was too harsh," William said with a grin as he collected the papers. Then he began to segue into the day's topic—having gotten their chaotic ideas onto paper, the students were finally in the right mindset for the lesson.
"Alright, you've all just made your own guesses. While I haven't had a chance to read your responses, judging by the way you tackled the question, I've discovered something rather sad."
"Alas—" William drew out the sound, but quickly switched to a cheerful tone, "After all these lessons, I've just discovered that was the most serious you've ever been when answering a question."
The students below burst into laughter.
"Alright, alright. I recall some of you have the goal of becoming an Auror?"
"Of course, Professor!"
Three students raised their hands at the same time.
"An excellent choice," William praised without hesitation. He might have his reservations about Hit-Wizards, but he had no prejudice against Aurors.
"Then you should know about the massive, chaotic pile of liver-aching certificates required to be an Auror, right?"
"Liver?"
The students sounded slightly confused.
"Haha, my mistake. It's a bit of local slang. To be precise, I mean—bewildering. Those requirements are horribly complex, aren't they?"
Almost every student nodded. To have self-studied Defense Against the Dark Arts enough to get into the advanced class, there was no question how much they loved the subject. And as the profession that utilized this subject to its fullest, no one would overlook the Auror position when considering employment.
"There's a rather old cliché that says those certificates are the price one pays to become an Auror. Of course, the cost of becoming an Auror is far more than just that—I'm sure you know at least as much as I do about it."
"You've probably been hearing this since you were children and are sick of it, but I must repeat it to you once more: before you consider doing anything, first commit the word 'cost' to memory."
"Believe me, knowing how to weigh gains and losses is a virtue for a wizard no less important than profound knowledge. After your internships, you will discover that the Wizarding World has far fewer restrictions on you than you think—and at that time, you will have far more to consider than you ever did at school."
The laws of the Wizarding World are both incomplete and arbitrary; many even have loopholes left in them intentionally.
But that doesn't mean those loopholes can be exploited at will. As someone who came from Azkaban, William knew very well what kind of people ended up there—the proportion of those who had tried to exploit legal loopholes was not low at all.
...
"I hope that whenever you do anything, you think it through carefully: Why am I doing this? What must I give up to do it? What can I gain from it? And is it worth it?"
"If it's worth it, do it. If it's not, please choose to give it up. While this isn't a spell, I personally believe it is a remarkable form of Defense Against the Dark Arts, no less effective than a Shield Charm."
"Alright, class dismissed. Pre-study the textbook on your own, and hand in an essay next class—" William waved the speculation forms he had collected and smiled at the students. "I'll be handing in your homework for you as well. Good luck."
"Professor!"
Just as William was about to leave, a student from the back suddenly asked a question.
"If you have to consider everything, won't that be exhausting?"
"That's an attitude for work. Work is work, and life is life. The two should not be confused."
"Then what about life, Professor?"
"Life is always different. There are always messy things that can't be judged simply, and occasionally, things that require no judgment at all." William rested a hand on the doorframe. "There are too many surprises, who can say? Perhaps—"
William paused, a smile spreading across his face. "It's blooming mistletoe and the late summer moonlight?"
(end of chapter)
'You're all mature seventh-year students. Can't you think about things adults should be thinking about? Like careers and love?'
William looked at the circle of students around him with an expression of profound disappointment, only to find their eyes more focused than ever.
'If there's really something wrong with that Diadem and it has to be destroyed, can it even *be* destroyed?'
The question suddenly appeared in William's mind, but he forced himself to ignore it. To put it bluntly, even if he were asked to destroy the Diadem, he probably didn't have the strength to do it.
'I can't even figure out what's wrong with it—what does destroying it have to do with me? I'd probably be killed by some hidden trap on it before I even tried.'
"You all like the Diadem?"
William asked softly.
"Of course!"
The students replied in unison, their voices filled with confidence.
"Supreme wisdom," William said, looking around at the students. "Who could dislike that? But there is always a cost—nothing in the Wizarding World comes for free. I'm not talking about obtaining the Diadem, but about the wisdom it brings."
"If gaining wisdom from the Diadem requires a cost, then what might that cost be?"
William clapped his hands sharply, his voice quickening. "Now! Everyone! Immediately write down your speculations. Imagine what the Diadem might demand as payment and hand it in. If any of you can write down a cost that I haven't thought of, you might very well get to touch that Diadem before graduation. But if none of you come up with anything original, then I'm afraid—"
William glanced at everyone. "—you might lose your only chance to ever touch it."
Without another word, every student pulled paper and pen from their backpack and began writing furiously.
"Be original, and be brief—anyone who tries to use clever wordplay is immediately disqualified!"
William added the rule directly, but no one complained in the slightest.
'Their obsession with the Diadem is a bit surprising, but at least it segues into the lesson.'
William stood up and scanned the students.
He had originally planned to talk about the concept of cost. Many magical traps succeeded in harming wizards not because of how well-hidden they were, but because the bait on the trap was tempting enough. Since seventh-year students would soon be entering the Wizarding World to work, William planned to properly impart his observations of the Wizarding World to his students.
'Even though I've only been in this so-called Wizarding World for almost a year, my experience in Azkaban is enough to last me—and these kids—half a lifetime. There was just too much darkness there, too many setbacks...'
William sighed and started to mull over the issue of the Diadem. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, his name was now inextricably linked to the discovered Diadem.
'A single perspective is limited. Perhaps these wizards, who are theoretically already of age, will have some different ideas—'
'A Diadem that grants unprecedented wisdom and was treasured by Ravenclaw herself surely can't be as terrifying as I'm making it out to be. But who knows what kind of magic has been added to it. What if one of these students has a stroke of genius and guesses correctly?'
But regardless of whether they guessed correctly or not, William planned to just toss the reports to Dumbledore and be done with it. Perhaps one of the students would inspire the Headmaster. It was only a matter of who got to use the Diadem; since it was a windfall for William, he wouldn't feel bad about giving it away.
It would be great if there was a helpful hint, but it was no loss if there wasn't. In any case, William wasn't going to be the one grading this exam paper.
---
"Everyone finished? I'll be sending these to Dumbledore for his personal judgment. If you don't pass, don't say I was too harsh," William said with a grin as he collected the papers. Then he began to segue into the day's topic—having gotten their chaotic ideas onto paper, the students were finally in the right mindset for the lesson.
"Alright, you've all just made your own guesses. While I haven't had a chance to read your responses, judging by the way you tackled the question, I've discovered something rather sad."
"Alas—" William drew out the sound, but quickly switched to a cheerful tone, "After all these lessons, I've just discovered that was the most serious you've ever been when answering a question."
The students below burst into laughter.
"Alright, alright. I recall some of you have the goal of becoming an Auror?"
"Of course, Professor!"
Three students raised their hands at the same time.
"An excellent choice," William praised without hesitation. He might have his reservations about Hit-Wizards, but he had no prejudice against Aurors.
"Then you should know about the massive, chaotic pile of liver-aching certificates required to be an Auror, right?"
"Liver?"
The students sounded slightly confused.
"Haha, my mistake. It's a bit of local slang. To be precise, I mean—bewildering. Those requirements are horribly complex, aren't they?"
Almost every student nodded. To have self-studied Defense Against the Dark Arts enough to get into the advanced class, there was no question how much they loved the subject. And as the profession that utilized this subject to its fullest, no one would overlook the Auror position when considering employment.
"There's a rather old cliché that says those certificates are the price one pays to become an Auror. Of course, the cost of becoming an Auror is far more than just that—I'm sure you know at least as much as I do about it."
"You've probably been hearing this since you were children and are sick of it, but I must repeat it to you once more: before you consider doing anything, first commit the word 'cost' to memory."
"Believe me, knowing how to weigh gains and losses is a virtue for a wizard no less important than profound knowledge. After your internships, you will discover that the Wizarding World has far fewer restrictions on you than you think—and at that time, you will have far more to consider than you ever did at school."
The laws of the Wizarding World are both incomplete and arbitrary; many even have loopholes left in them intentionally.
But that doesn't mean those loopholes can be exploited at will. As someone who came from Azkaban, William knew very well what kind of people ended up there—the proportion of those who had tried to exploit legal loopholes was not low at all.
...
"I hope that whenever you do anything, you think it through carefully: Why am I doing this? What must I give up to do it? What can I gain from it? And is it worth it?"
"If it's worth it, do it. If it's not, please choose to give it up. While this isn't a spell, I personally believe it is a remarkable form of Defense Against the Dark Arts, no less effective than a Shield Charm."
"Alright, class dismissed. Pre-study the textbook on your own, and hand in an essay next class—" William waved the speculation forms he had collected and smiled at the students. "I'll be handing in your homework for you as well. Good luck."
"Professor!"
Just as William was about to leave, a student from the back suddenly asked a question.
"If you have to consider everything, won't that be exhausting?"
"That's an attitude for work. Work is work, and life is life. The two should not be confused."
"Then what about life, Professor?"
"Life is always different. There are always messy things that can't be judged simply, and occasionally, things that require no judgment at all." William rested a hand on the doorframe. "There are too many surprises, who can say? Perhaps—"
William paused, a smile spreading across his face. "It's blooming mistletoe and the late summer moonlight?"
(end of chapter)
