"Saturday, Week 3 at Hogwarts, Sunny.
Today has been an absolute disaster."
After writing that in his diary, William thought for a moment, then turned to the first page and, on the title page, heavily wrote a sentence in bold.
"[Always maintain twelve parts vigilance against Weasleys, no matter when or where.]"
After confirming the ink was dry, William pulled out his wand again and cast a spell on the diary to ensure the sentence wouldn't be easily erased or faded.
Only after completing these tasks did he let out a long breath, chewing on a small piece of chocolate as he turned back to the previous page of his diary.
"Today must be the earliest I've ever woken up at Hogwarts.
Logically, I should be feeling light and carefree today, as the rooster incident that had been bothering me has now been handed over to Professor McGonagall, and she has spoken with the students. Yet, I still feel a bit uneasy.
How should I put it? I always feel like things are developing into a Cthulhu-esque world—the way those roosters died was simply too strange, and theoretically, killing two chickens shouldn't require such an elaborate cover-up. It's incredibly unbelievable, like tearing down a house just to catch a mouse.
But with the ghost lead gone, I really can't find any breakthroughs."
William paused here, then drew a smiley face in his diary—but it didn't seem to help.
"There's still work to be done on that matter, but it's clearly not something I can foresee now—Hagrid and Adams bought over thirty more roosters. It looks like they'll be eating quite happily."
After a moment of hesitation, William added another sentence.
"I don't know if I should advise them not to buy any more. Perhaps more roosters will only make it easier for the culprit to obtain materials, but if Hagrid has no roosters, will the culprit really stop?"
"Mr. Filch was a bit angry today—although Professor McGonagall interviewed many students, no one took responsibility for the incident, which made him quite unhappy."
"'I'll catch that troublemaker.'—That's what he said before storming off. I don't know what Mr. Filch plans to do, but out of a bit of self-interest, I didn't try to dissuade him. I hope the student who killed the chickens gets caught soon."
"Of course, I think I also bear some responsibility. Part of the reason Mr. Filch was unhappy was because I was preparing to host a banquet for the students who committed misdeeds."
As he wrote this, William couldn't help but unwrap another piece of chocolate.
Then he began to regulate his breathing.
Inhale—exhale, long breaths. After quite a while, he finally wrote the next line in his diary.
"I admit, I haven't been to many banquets, but I'm afraid there's no banquet more unbearable than today's, is there?"
"Adams and Sinjid spent half a day preparing for me: the office expanded by magic, flowers conjured by magic, words transformed by fire, decorations set up by house-elves—"
At this point, William simply put down his quill.
'I was so foolish—I saw how unruly the kids were on the first day of school, and yet I had the courage to leave my office.'
He couldn't help but cover his face—this matter was too embarrassing, he simply couldn't bring himself to write it in his diary.
—
Two hours ago.
"Professor William?"
In the midst of the lively party, William suddenly heard Mr. Filch's voice as he entered.
William hesitated, then followed Filch out—the inner door had been magically reinforced to the point where even he could barely open it. Although no other professors were invited to the outer area to let the students have more fun, such a brief departure couldn't possibly lead to trouble.
'After all, they're all in detention, so nothing should go wrong.'
With that thought, William followed Filch out of his office—after all, letting a bunch of students in detention attend a party was a bit much for Filch, and he felt a little guilty.
"Mr. Filch, is there something urgent?"
Out of guilt, he was the first to ask.
"There is something I still don't quite understand—Professor, you haven't found the culprit yet, have you?"
"Not yet, and there are no breakthroughs at the moment."
Although it was a bit shameful to admit, William truthfully reported his investigation results.
This outcome clearly wouldn't make Filch happy—especially since he had just witnessed a group of misbehaving children having a blast at the banquet.
"So, Professor, will those students really find anything?"
Such a question was probably the greatest challenge the caretaker could pose to a professor.
"Of course, of course," Although William himself only considered this a backup plan, he sincerely assured Filch, "Killing chickens and not even taking the chickens away, it's undoubtedly because they intend to collect chicken blood. That blood won't just disappear into thin air; it's highly likely being used in some evil rituals to draw arrays or write runes or something."
"Those things must be drawn in an empty place. Secret passages, secret classrooms, places like that are all possible. The castle is too big; if we don't seek the help of those children, no one will be able to search everywhere."
"That makes sense, Professor. If they are willing to help, the secret corners of the castle probably won't escape detection."
William's explanation barely managed to convince the caretaker, making him stop dwelling on the party that made him uncomfortable.
"So, what can I do, Professor?"
"You've done enough, Mr. Filch. Things aren't that bad; it's just a student who saw some strange ritual somewhere and decided to imitate it."
William advised—it wasn't that he didn't trust the caretaker, but he felt that this incident was not that simple, and it would not be good for the caretaker to get involved.
'It's not that I look down on you, Mr. Filch, it's just that I can't even figure out how you could quickly draw your wand. Although you hide your wand very well, a wizard who can't quickly draw their wand is pretty useless in a fight…'
This judgment wasn't something William just made up; among the wizards he had encountered so far, those who could draw their wands immediately had considerable combat power.
For example, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick—their wands were all placed in a very convenient position. William hadn't seen Dumbledore's wand—but Dumbledore could easily take William down with wandless magic.
And Professor Lockhart—this professor's wand placement was what William considered the most offensive and concealed, with no flaws except for the inconvenience of returning it for defensive spells after casting.
Compared to these professors, William felt it was better for someone like Mr. Filch, whose wand wasn't even placed in a convenient spot, to stay less involved—he already regretted letting the students participate. If this stubborn caretaker got involved again, it wouldn't help matters.
And to put it bluntly—based on an assessment of strength, William believed that the students he called for help could easily defeat Filch in a 1v1.
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