HP: Professor From Azkaban

"Hey, George, why didn't you protest just now?"

Fred placed one hand on his brother's shoulder while using the other to try to undo the Leg-Locker Curse on himself, his mouth never pausing in its chatter.

"Protest? Protest about copying magical history?" George gave Fred a look that screamed disbelief, staring at him with disdain.

"I'd rather scrub toilets than copy magical history!" Fred said indignantly.

"Bedpans, not toilets. But honestly, I don't think there's much difference," George replied with an unusually somber expression. "But what do you think would happen if we complained to a professor about copying? Three months of scrubbing, or maybe six?"

"That's what I thought too, which is why I waited to see if you'd actually complain."

The two exchanged a glance and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

After laughing for a few minutes, they began working together to figure out the Leg-Locker Curse. Eventually, they managed to undo it.

"Let's go. A professor who can catch students in a pub probably isn't messing around with us," Fred said.

"Copying magical history! What kind of twisted mind comes up with that kind of punishment? I thought Filch's methods were already harsh enough!"

"My only hope now is that Professor McGonagall doesn't get inspired by this. Copying magical history is already miserable enough. If most punishments get replaced with copying, I might not even lose another House point for the rest of the year," George said dramatically.

"Relax, George. Filch would never agree to that. He wouldn't think copying is a serious enough punishment. What we need to do is make sure McGonagall doesn't get any ideas from this."

"Agreed. When we report to McGonagall, we'll just say we got caught leaving school on a non-weekend and earned a month of detention for it."

The twins, no longer showing any signs of their earlier defeat, walked along as they cheerfully discussed their plan. Their laughter echoed in the corridors, as if it were some Slytherins who had just been caught, not them.

"By the way, which professor was that?"

"Yeah, who was that professor?"

***

"Back already, William?"

"You're awake?"

William looked at Adams in surprise. The latter, who had been in a drunken stupor earlier, now seemed fully recovered and ready for action.

"Herbs. Kudzu root mixed with daffodil root. Not technically a potion, but if you chew them together, sobering up is easy," Adams explained, quickly answering William's unspoken question, as though he'd been asked it many times before. He handed William a portion as well.

Singed continued enjoying his quiet peace. Compared to the constant buzz of conversation in the castle, these nearly transparent moments of solitude were far more valuable to him.

"By the way, William, aren't you planning to buy anything? The Hog's Head is the only place nearby where you can get contraband. You know, a lot of magical experiments can't go on without those things."

That wasn't an easy topic to respond to.

William knew very well that ever since the upheaval in the Far East, the British Ministry of Magic had implemented a series of policies that classified many important potions, ingredients, and magical items as prohibited goods.

For the average wizard, these precious potions and materials weren't necessary for daily life. However, wizards with even a little ambition would often dabble in magical experiments. Even someone like Dumbledore, the greatest white wizard, had one of his most famous achievements involve discovering twelve uses of dragon's blood.

Probably every Hogwarts professor, except me, the one who barely scraped together enough qualifications to join the faculty, is secretly conducting experiments; William thought.

"What's the matter? First time here and hesitant to buy anything? Don't worry. The Ministry of Magic turns a blind eye. They only go after smugglers or occasionally raid the sellers. Buying isn't really a problem," Adams said, seemingly assuming that William's hesitation was due to inexperience, and kindly explained.

How unfair…

William froze for a moment, then grew irritated at the Ministry of Magic. So that's how I ended up in Azkaban?

Also, he had assumed that all the Hogwarts professors knew about his time in Azkaban. But now it seemed that, apart from the hiring committee, no one else was aware.

William couldn't help but recall the people who had gone to Azkaban during his recruitment. If his guess was correct, the ones who came were likely Dumbledore's most trusted associates.

That thought led him to remember his interviewer; someone he hadn't seen since arriving at Hogwarts.

If his memory served him right, that person was a professor.

Though it felt a bit rude, even ungrateful, William couldn't help but be curious. How had that seemingly mysterious Divination professor become one of Dumbledore's most trusted people?

Yesterday, Professor McGonagall had even mentioned that professor during their conversation. Judging by her tone, it was clear that McGonagall had no fondness for the Divination professor.

This line of thought led William to conclude that the Divination professor must be deeply trusted by the Headmaster. After all, Professor McGonagall wasn't just any teacher; she was the powerful Deputy Headmistress.

In just four days of working at the school, William had already realized how immense Professor McGonagall's authority at Hogwarts was.

Approving student lists, authorizing budgets, evaluating professors, setting rules, organizing events. McGonagall managed countless key responsibilities. If not for Dumbledore still holding the title of Headmaster, she might even deliver the opening ceremony speeches.

And yet, despite McGonagall's long-standing disdain for Professor Trelawney, the Divination professor remained untouched. If that wasn't a sign of Dumbledore's trust, then what was?

***

"William? William?"

Adams's voice broke William's train of thought.

"Sorry, I suddenly remembered something," William said as he came back to his senses and quickly apologized.

"No worries. For a moment, I thought you were like Singed, who enjoys zoning out in pubs," Adams replied with a relieved sigh. It seemed his concern wasn't just casual. Having a teammate who loved to space out in pubs, especially as the only partner, wasn't exactly a pleasant prospect.

Apart from the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, Hogwarts rarely hired new professors within two years. And due to the unique circumstances surrounding the position, the professors hired were often much older and didn't fit in well with younger staff. If William turned out to be the dreamy, spaced-out type, Adams joked to himself that he might end up drowning in the Hog's Head's barrels of ale.

"Actually, there's no need to rush," Adams continued. "Right now, the prices for everything are a bit inflated. It's mostly about getting a sense of the market. Many recent Hogwarts graduates are just starting to establish themselves in society, so this period is when the demand for materials is at its highest. By the end of the year, prices will drop."

"But no matter when you shop, always keep your eyes wide open. This place isn't like the shops in Diagon Alley, where you can go back to the seller if you're sold a fake. At the Hog's Head, it's rare to see the same merchants twice. Though, I do know a few..."

Adams enthusiastically began sharing his experience, while William struggled to keep a straight face, listening intently.

If I weren't a professor now, I'd probably be in Azkaban studying forgery. Who knows? Maybe I'd even come out to teach these counterfeit sellers a thing or two as their professor.

...

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