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Chapter 80: Why Challenge Yourself?
2022-07-14 by I'm Just a Pigeon
"Clang, clang, clang, clang!"
The annoying alarm clock rang in his ear. A groggy William waved his hand impatiently, and the world fell silent once more.
Even though it wasn't winter, the warmth of the bed still formed a trap from which most people couldn't escape, and William was no exception.
By the time William crawled out from under the covers, content and fully awake, he realized that all the plans he had made last night were ruined.
If nothing unexpected had happened, he would have already invited Hagrid back to The Leaky Cauldron to visit Old Tom—but now, that was all down the drain.
'I thought this thing was supposed to be punctual?'
Puzzled, William looked at the alarm clock that had been delivered with his luggage when he first arrived. William suspected it was meant to prevent professors from being late—this small, magical device had always worked perfectly.
'There's nothing wrong with the alarm clock, and it looks like it was stopped by magic. I'm sure I set it yesterday.'
William tried hard to recall if he had woken up and waved his wand to turn off the alarm. After mulling it over for a long while, he finally, vaguely, remembered waving his hand through the air to make the alarm stop.
'Logically, after mastering how to apply magic through the System and holding a wand, this kind of accidental magic should become less frequent. How did it suddenly happen?'
After resetting the alarm, William put down his wand and began trying to find that feeling of casting spells without one. Since his plan was already a mess, it didn't matter if it got a little messier.
But after half an hour, William had gained nothing.
Once he confirmed that he couldn't make even the slightest breakthrough in this area anytime soon, William jotted down a few thoughts, both useful and useless, on a piece of paper and stored it away with his diary.
Time to get to business.
---
Hagrid didn't usually come to the Great Hall for meals. Some of the creatures in the Forbidden Forest needed him to replenish their food, and he was also raising some little darlings in there that needed feeding—those were Hagrid's exact words.
Because of this, William hadn't seen Hagrid once in the week since he started working at the castle.
Normally, William had to prepare for his classes and engage in self-study. Today was a day he could comfortably give himself a break, a perfect time to go out and wander around, which also counted as a vacation.
"Hagrid, you home?"
William called out cheerfully while still a good distance from Hagrid's Hut.
"William?"
A louder voice came from inside the hut, as if competing with William to see who was louder.
Then, William heard heavy footsteps. The door opened, and the half-blood giant's smiling face poked out.
"Weekend?"
"Weekend. Got any plans for the day? Want to go to The Leaky Cauldron for a drink?"
"That's great—oh, wait, I'm afraid I can't. But, William, come on in. Even though I can't go for a drink today, I think I can introduce you to a few friends."
Hagrid was about to agree excitedly, but he seemed to suddenly remember something, and a look of regret appeared on his face.
William went with the flow and entered the hut, only to discover that the people inside seemed to be acquaintances—or more accurately, acquaintances who held a one-sided hatred for him.
Three cards were lying nicely in his collection, and they had even gifted him a title.
The little witch he was most familiar with, and also the most mischievous, now had obvious surprise on her face, which quickly turned into well-concealed anger.
One of the others, a person William knew one-sidedly from descriptions in countless Dark Arts books, was now looking at him with a blank expression.
As for the last one, he was staring blankly into a basin, as if something in it had completely captivated him.
"Three students. Your friends?"
"Yes, my three friends," Hagrid responded with a brilliant smile. "You already know Hermione, William. The other two are Harry and Ron. I reckon you know who Harry is, so that means you know Ron, too."
Logical and convincing.
Just as William was preparing to praise the three in his capacity as a teacher, something awkward happened.
The boy named Ron leaned over the large copper basin and retched, but what came out was not your usual vomit—it was enormous slugs.
"Is this... a hex?"
The Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge William had been cramming since his release from prison allowed him to immediately assess Ron's situation.
He circled Ron curiously, preparing to cast a counter-spell. Although the three youngsters were hostile towards him, it didn't stop him from protecting a student as a professor.
After all, hostility was one thing. Other than giving him three bounties, these three kids hadn't done anything. Could he really give them detention just for receiving three of their 'cards'?
As he walked around, William noticed something was wrong. The power of this spell was astonishingly strong, not at all at a student's level. Even among adults, few wizards could pull it off.
"Which professor used this hex? Isn't this punishment a bit excessive for a student?"
William's tone suddenly became serious. Deducting points, detention, even making them clean bedpans was one thing, but how could a teacher use their superior magic to attack a student?
"It wasn't a professor, Professor."
"It wasn't? Has Hogwarts been infiltrated? Or perhaps... this student, Ron, took out his own wand and cast it on himself?"
William made his judgment with certainty. A spell wouldn't backfire so uncontrollably unless you cast it on yourself. Magic is only defenseless against magic from the same source.
"It was his wand, Professor. There's something wrong with Ron's wand."
...
William froze for two full seconds.
So he really did cast a curse on himself?
"If he cast it himself, there's nothing to be done. Fortunately, the effect of the spell isn't severe, and the counter-spell would be more trouble. Let's just leave it as it is. He'll get used to the puking after a while."
William shook his head. A situation like this needed to be treated with a potion. A wizard would need overwhelming power to fix it with magic alone. Another option was to overlay it with a deeper curse of the same effect and then use a counter-spell, but each method was more troublesome than the last. It was better to just wait for the spell's effect to wear off.
"William, isn't there any other way?"
"There is, but it involves more suffering. I don't recommend it."
"Blegh…" The student named Ron retched another mouthful, his face growing pale.
But he looked up at William, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Professor, I'd like to receive the treatment. I don't think it can get any worse."
"Alright. Hold on tight, and don't scream."
William took a few steps forward, pulled out his wand, and tapped it on Ron's stomach.
Ron's face turned deathly white, then quickly flushed red. His nose started to run, tears streamed uncontrollably from his tear ducts, and his features began to twist.
Then, he bent over, clutching the copper basin, and began to vomit violently, as if trying to bring up his own bile. Countless tiny particles mixed with stomach acid spewed out and landed in the basin, where they immediately began to squirm—they were rice-sized spiders.
Terror filled his contorted face, his eyes lost focus, and his whole body swayed as he started to collapse toward the basin. Only then did William's wand tap him a second time.
"Finite Incantatem."
William whispered the spell, catching the fainting, unlucky boy. "Didn't you say you could handle it?"
(end of chapter)
2022-07-14 by I'm Just a Pigeon
"Clang, clang, clang, clang!"
The annoying alarm clock rang in his ear. A groggy William waved his hand impatiently, and the world fell silent once more.
Even though it wasn't winter, the warmth of the bed still formed a trap from which most people couldn't escape, and William was no exception.
By the time William crawled out from under the covers, content and fully awake, he realized that all the plans he had made last night were ruined.
If nothing unexpected had happened, he would have already invited Hagrid back to The Leaky Cauldron to visit Old Tom—but now, that was all down the drain.
'I thought this thing was supposed to be punctual?'
Puzzled, William looked at the alarm clock that had been delivered with his luggage when he first arrived. William suspected it was meant to prevent professors from being late—this small, magical device had always worked perfectly.
'There's nothing wrong with the alarm clock, and it looks like it was stopped by magic. I'm sure I set it yesterday.'
William tried hard to recall if he had woken up and waved his wand to turn off the alarm. After mulling it over for a long while, he finally, vaguely, remembered waving his hand through the air to make the alarm stop.
'Logically, after mastering how to apply magic through the System and holding a wand, this kind of accidental magic should become less frequent. How did it suddenly happen?'
After resetting the alarm, William put down his wand and began trying to find that feeling of casting spells without one. Since his plan was already a mess, it didn't matter if it got a little messier.
But after half an hour, William had gained nothing.
Once he confirmed that he couldn't make even the slightest breakthrough in this area anytime soon, William jotted down a few thoughts, both useful and useless, on a piece of paper and stored it away with his diary.
Time to get to business.
---
Hagrid didn't usually come to the Great Hall for meals. Some of the creatures in the Forbidden Forest needed him to replenish their food, and he was also raising some little darlings in there that needed feeding—those were Hagrid's exact words.
Because of this, William hadn't seen Hagrid once in the week since he started working at the castle.
Normally, William had to prepare for his classes and engage in self-study. Today was a day he could comfortably give himself a break, a perfect time to go out and wander around, which also counted as a vacation.
"Hagrid, you home?"
William called out cheerfully while still a good distance from Hagrid's Hut.
"William?"
A louder voice came from inside the hut, as if competing with William to see who was louder.
Then, William heard heavy footsteps. The door opened, and the half-blood giant's smiling face poked out.
"Weekend?"
"Weekend. Got any plans for the day? Want to go to The Leaky Cauldron for a drink?"
"That's great—oh, wait, I'm afraid I can't. But, William, come on in. Even though I can't go for a drink today, I think I can introduce you to a few friends."
Hagrid was about to agree excitedly, but he seemed to suddenly remember something, and a look of regret appeared on his face.
William went with the flow and entered the hut, only to discover that the people inside seemed to be acquaintances—or more accurately, acquaintances who held a one-sided hatred for him.
Three cards were lying nicely in his collection, and they had even gifted him a title.
The little witch he was most familiar with, and also the most mischievous, now had obvious surprise on her face, which quickly turned into well-concealed anger.
One of the others, a person William knew one-sidedly from descriptions in countless Dark Arts books, was now looking at him with a blank expression.
As for the last one, he was staring blankly into a basin, as if something in it had completely captivated him.
"Three students. Your friends?"
"Yes, my three friends," Hagrid responded with a brilliant smile. "You already know Hermione, William. The other two are Harry and Ron. I reckon you know who Harry is, so that means you know Ron, too."
Logical and convincing.
Just as William was preparing to praise the three in his capacity as a teacher, something awkward happened.
The boy named Ron leaned over the large copper basin and retched, but what came out was not your usual vomit—it was enormous slugs.
"Is this... a hex?"
The Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge William had been cramming since his release from prison allowed him to immediately assess Ron's situation.
He circled Ron curiously, preparing to cast a counter-spell. Although the three youngsters were hostile towards him, it didn't stop him from protecting a student as a professor.
After all, hostility was one thing. Other than giving him three bounties, these three kids hadn't done anything. Could he really give them detention just for receiving three of their 'cards'?
As he walked around, William noticed something was wrong. The power of this spell was astonishingly strong, not at all at a student's level. Even among adults, few wizards could pull it off.
"Which professor used this hex? Isn't this punishment a bit excessive for a student?"
William's tone suddenly became serious. Deducting points, detention, even making them clean bedpans was one thing, but how could a teacher use their superior magic to attack a student?
"It wasn't a professor, Professor."
"It wasn't? Has Hogwarts been infiltrated? Or perhaps... this student, Ron, took out his own wand and cast it on himself?"
William made his judgment with certainty. A spell wouldn't backfire so uncontrollably unless you cast it on yourself. Magic is only defenseless against magic from the same source.
"It was his wand, Professor. There's something wrong with Ron's wand."
...
William froze for two full seconds.
So he really did cast a curse on himself?
"If he cast it himself, there's nothing to be done. Fortunately, the effect of the spell isn't severe, and the counter-spell would be more trouble. Let's just leave it as it is. He'll get used to the puking after a while."
William shook his head. A situation like this needed to be treated with a potion. A wizard would need overwhelming power to fix it with magic alone. Another option was to overlay it with a deeper curse of the same effect and then use a counter-spell, but each method was more troublesome than the last. It was better to just wait for the spell's effect to wear off.
"William, isn't there any other way?"
"There is, but it involves more suffering. I don't recommend it."
"Blegh…" The student named Ron retched another mouthful, his face growing pale.
But he looked up at William, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Professor, I'd like to receive the treatment. I don't think it can get any worse."
"Alright. Hold on tight, and don't scream."
William took a few steps forward, pulled out his wand, and tapped it on Ron's stomach.
Ron's face turned deathly white, then quickly flushed red. His nose started to run, tears streamed uncontrollably from his tear ducts, and his features began to twist.
Then, he bent over, clutching the copper basin, and began to vomit violently, as if trying to bring up his own bile. Countless tiny particles mixed with stomach acid spewed out and landed in the basin, where they immediately began to squirm—they were rice-sized spiders.
Terror filled his contorted face, his eyes lost focus, and his whole body swayed as he started to collapse toward the basin. Only then did William's wand tap him a second time.
"Finite Incantatem."
William whispered the spell, catching the fainting, unlucky boy. "Didn't you say you could handle it?"
(end of chapter)
