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Chapter 81: An Unsuccessful Education
William didn't even have to lift a finger. An eager Hagrid strode over, picked Ron up, and placed him on the bed—his movements as gentle as if he were handling a small chick.
*'I bet one of Hagrid's punches hits harder than a normal wizard's Impediment Jinx,'* William mused.
With that thought, he waved his wand and cleared the brass basin of slugs and other unidentified objects.
"Professor, is Ron going to be alright?" Harry asked impatiently, watching William begin to clean up the aftermath.
"He's fine. He just threw up quite violently. It's good for him to get some rest and recover."
In theory, that particular curse would, at most, make someone vomit until their legs gave out. The boy named Ron had likely fainted from either the pain or the shock. Still, William kindly concealed the real reason—after all, a bit more sleep wouldn't do the child any harm. Vomiting for so long was certainly exhausting.
The professor's assurance put the two nervous children at ease. Soon, however, they began to feel awkward—at the start of school, the three of them had held a small celebration that this particular professor was *not* their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Fortunately, William was quick to break the awkward silence.
"Although you aren't my students, I'm still curious—a hex like this is far more insulting than it is harmful. Between adults, it would lead to a duel at the very least. What on earth happened to warrant such a malicious curse?"
Forcing someone to vomit slugs... that's far more severe than just telling them to eat crap. To some, the effect of this hex is no different than having a handful of manure shoved in their mouth—or having a Dungbomb smashed into their teeth.
This was, in a very real sense, making someone spew filth. If you used it on someone with a real temper, you'd be looking at a duel to the death.
The two children, who had just relaxed, immediately tensed up again. This professor was known for giving out detentions and deducting points from students in any year!
Harry had heard the Weasley brothers complain on more than one occasion about how Professor William had lured them out of the Hog's Head Inn, given them a thrashing, and then slapped them with detention. He couldn't possibly be more terrifying.
"It was Malfoy!"
Harry blurted out the name of the instigator, then recounted the morning's events with a speed and clarity he'd never managed before.
"So, let me get this straight. The student named Malfoy started the trouble, used an extremely insulting term, and only then did Ron attempt to use this curse on him?"
William crossed his arms, quickly trying to place the name Malfoy. He vaguely recalled something... didn't he and Harry constantly butt heads?
During the Goblet of Fire competition, hadn't that same Malfoy student created a bunch of anti-Harry badges?
"Hmm, so this Malfoy doesn't get along with you? Are his grades very good, and you stole his spotlight?"
"Are you kidding, William? Hermione's top of their second year. Everyone knows she's number one in their year!" Hagrid, having just settled the unconscious Ron, immediately chimed in.
William noticed Hermione blush. *So what Hagrid said is true,* he thought.
"Well, it doesn't seem to be about grades, then. Hagrid never lies. It might be a bit early for kids your age, but I have to ask... did you steal Malfoy's girlfriend?"
"Hahahaha!"
Hagrid let out a hearty laugh. He only stopped when he saw Harry's obviously embarrassed expression. "William, Harry's only twelve."
"What's wrong with twelve? Don't underestimate kids these days—" William retorted with a grin before turning back to Harry.
"If it's none of the above, then... is it that he comes from a good family and used to be a big shot at school, but now you've completely overshadowed him in terms of fame?"
William saw an uncomfortable look cross Harry's face, but he still gave a reluctant nod.
"Don't like the fame? You should learn from Professor Dumbledore. If he cared that much about his reputation, he'd probably be even more serious than Professor McGonagall. Can you imagine how terrifying that would be?" William badmouthed his superior without a second thought.
Hagrid, who had shuffled closer, looked like he wanted to laugh but managed to stifle it, letting out a sound like a deflating tire.
"So, because Malfoy was jealous of you, he came looking for trouble, but when Ron went to cast a spell, it backfired because of his own wand?"
"That's right, Professor."
"In that case, Ron was in the wrong," William declared.
"Professor?"
"He knew perfectly well there was a problem with his wand, so why didn't he just snatch the wand from the person next to him? Based on your description, he was standing right beside you, wasn't he?"
The two boys were instantly dumbfounded. Was their professor teaching them how to get away with an attack?
"Look, your wand," William pointed out. "It's easy to draw, so it would be simple to grab, wouldn't it? You two are friends, so he should know that using your wand wouldn't be a problem. Then, while everyone was enjoying the show, he could use a Levitation Charm or something similar to cover his actions, then quietly slip your wand back. Then he could just act all panicked, pretending his own wand had misfired..."
"Ahem."
Hagrid coughed twice, making William suddenly realize his mistake.
He wasn't in Azkaban swapping stories with a bunch of prisoners about the dirtiest ways to fight; he was here to be an educator.
Teaching a student how to get away with something like that was completely inappropriate. As a professor, he should never be encouraging students to fight.
"Of course, that's just a hypothetical," William quickly tried to salvage the situation. "Regardless, fighting is never a good thing for students at school, especially since Professor McGonagall is particularly strict with the students in her House."
"It's a good thing his spell missed. Otherwise, if the other side had reported it to a professor, the one who attacked first would have definitely gotten detention. The most you could have done is trade insults—"
But William stopped mid-sentence, realizing he'd run into another problem. Back in Azkaban, there were plenty of comebacks for insults like 'Mudblood,' retorts so cutting they could make the other person see red. Because Hufflepuff was the largest House, they also had the most members in Azkaban, and their repertoire of creative insults was so vast it was almost admirable.
But as a professor, he couldn't use those words himself, nor could he teach his students to use them.
It was incredibly frustrating.
William couldn't help but roll his eyes discreetly. *Three little Gryffindors, and not one of them knows how to properly insult someone. It's the same with the ones in prison and the ones out here. Always so quick to throw punches. Why don't you learn how to throw a verbal jab for once!*
"Well, it's all in the past now. The other side probably won't report it to a professor—after all, none of them were actually hit by the spell. You can consider yourselves lucky to have escaped detention." William finally managed to get the conversation back on track, only to see the boy's face fall as if he'd been hit by frost.
"I already have detention tonight."
The conversation came to a dead end...
(end of chapter)
William didn't even have to lift a finger. An eager Hagrid strode over, picked Ron up, and placed him on the bed—his movements as gentle as if he were handling a small chick.
*'I bet one of Hagrid's punches hits harder than a normal wizard's Impediment Jinx,'* William mused.
With that thought, he waved his wand and cleared the brass basin of slugs and other unidentified objects.
"Professor, is Ron going to be alright?" Harry asked impatiently, watching William begin to clean up the aftermath.
"He's fine. He just threw up quite violently. It's good for him to get some rest and recover."
In theory, that particular curse would, at most, make someone vomit until their legs gave out. The boy named Ron had likely fainted from either the pain or the shock. Still, William kindly concealed the real reason—after all, a bit more sleep wouldn't do the child any harm. Vomiting for so long was certainly exhausting.
The professor's assurance put the two nervous children at ease. Soon, however, they began to feel awkward—at the start of school, the three of them had held a small celebration that this particular professor was *not* their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Fortunately, William was quick to break the awkward silence.
"Although you aren't my students, I'm still curious—a hex like this is far more insulting than it is harmful. Between adults, it would lead to a duel at the very least. What on earth happened to warrant such a malicious curse?"
Forcing someone to vomit slugs... that's far more severe than just telling them to eat crap. To some, the effect of this hex is no different than having a handful of manure shoved in their mouth—or having a Dungbomb smashed into their teeth.
This was, in a very real sense, making someone spew filth. If you used it on someone with a real temper, you'd be looking at a duel to the death.
The two children, who had just relaxed, immediately tensed up again. This professor was known for giving out detentions and deducting points from students in any year!
Harry had heard the Weasley brothers complain on more than one occasion about how Professor William had lured them out of the Hog's Head Inn, given them a thrashing, and then slapped them with detention. He couldn't possibly be more terrifying.
"It was Malfoy!"
Harry blurted out the name of the instigator, then recounted the morning's events with a speed and clarity he'd never managed before.
"So, let me get this straight. The student named Malfoy started the trouble, used an extremely insulting term, and only then did Ron attempt to use this curse on him?"
William crossed his arms, quickly trying to place the name Malfoy. He vaguely recalled something... didn't he and Harry constantly butt heads?
During the Goblet of Fire competition, hadn't that same Malfoy student created a bunch of anti-Harry badges?
"Hmm, so this Malfoy doesn't get along with you? Are his grades very good, and you stole his spotlight?"
"Are you kidding, William? Hermione's top of their second year. Everyone knows she's number one in their year!" Hagrid, having just settled the unconscious Ron, immediately chimed in.
William noticed Hermione blush. *So what Hagrid said is true,* he thought.
"Well, it doesn't seem to be about grades, then. Hagrid never lies. It might be a bit early for kids your age, but I have to ask... did you steal Malfoy's girlfriend?"
"Hahahaha!"
Hagrid let out a hearty laugh. He only stopped when he saw Harry's obviously embarrassed expression. "William, Harry's only twelve."
"What's wrong with twelve? Don't underestimate kids these days—" William retorted with a grin before turning back to Harry.
"If it's none of the above, then... is it that he comes from a good family and used to be a big shot at school, but now you've completely overshadowed him in terms of fame?"
William saw an uncomfortable look cross Harry's face, but he still gave a reluctant nod.
"Don't like the fame? You should learn from Professor Dumbledore. If he cared that much about his reputation, he'd probably be even more serious than Professor McGonagall. Can you imagine how terrifying that would be?" William badmouthed his superior without a second thought.
Hagrid, who had shuffled closer, looked like he wanted to laugh but managed to stifle it, letting out a sound like a deflating tire.
"So, because Malfoy was jealous of you, he came looking for trouble, but when Ron went to cast a spell, it backfired because of his own wand?"
"That's right, Professor."
"In that case, Ron was in the wrong," William declared.
"Professor?"
"He knew perfectly well there was a problem with his wand, so why didn't he just snatch the wand from the person next to him? Based on your description, he was standing right beside you, wasn't he?"
The two boys were instantly dumbfounded. Was their professor teaching them how to get away with an attack?
"Look, your wand," William pointed out. "It's easy to draw, so it would be simple to grab, wouldn't it? You two are friends, so he should know that using your wand wouldn't be a problem. Then, while everyone was enjoying the show, he could use a Levitation Charm or something similar to cover his actions, then quietly slip your wand back. Then he could just act all panicked, pretending his own wand had misfired..."
"Ahem."
Hagrid coughed twice, making William suddenly realize his mistake.
He wasn't in Azkaban swapping stories with a bunch of prisoners about the dirtiest ways to fight; he was here to be an educator.
Teaching a student how to get away with something like that was completely inappropriate. As a professor, he should never be encouraging students to fight.
"Of course, that's just a hypothetical," William quickly tried to salvage the situation. "Regardless, fighting is never a good thing for students at school, especially since Professor McGonagall is particularly strict with the students in her House."
"It's a good thing his spell missed. Otherwise, if the other side had reported it to a professor, the one who attacked first would have definitely gotten detention. The most you could have done is trade insults—"
But William stopped mid-sentence, realizing he'd run into another problem. Back in Azkaban, there were plenty of comebacks for insults like 'Mudblood,' retorts so cutting they could make the other person see red. Because Hufflepuff was the largest House, they also had the most members in Azkaban, and their repertoire of creative insults was so vast it was almost admirable.
But as a professor, he couldn't use those words himself, nor could he teach his students to use them.
It was incredibly frustrating.
William couldn't help but roll his eyes discreetly. *Three little Gryffindors, and not one of them knows how to properly insult someone. It's the same with the ones in prison and the ones out here. Always so quick to throw punches. Why don't you learn how to throw a verbal jab for once!*
"Well, it's all in the past now. The other side probably won't report it to a professor—after all, none of them were actually hit by the spell. You can consider yourselves lucky to have escaped detention." William finally managed to get the conversation back on track, only to see the boy's face fall as if he'd been hit by frost.
"I already have detention tonight."
The conversation came to a dead end...
(end of chapter)
