"Calm down, you can do this. Although the situation you're facing now is complicated, it's much better than waking up in a prison you didn't recognize at all."
William controlled his breathing, desperately trying to calm himself.
He had originally planned to leave Hogwarts, but now it seemed that all his plans had to be scrapped.
He didn't know much about the entire Wizarding World; what little he did know was only about the general happenings at Hogwarts in a certain year in the future.
He couldn't confirm the specific time of that year yet, but he clearly remembered that everything he knew would happen when the boy named Harry Potter participated in a competition called the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts.
And at that time, the caster of the curse upon him—He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—would be resurrected through a magical ritual.
Without a doubt, the curse he suffered would become most aggressive at that time. If he didn't want to take an even greater risk, it would be best to find a way to suppress the curse before then, or simply kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named beforehand.
This meant that he had to stay at Hogwarts until the so-called Triwizard Tournament was about to begin, instead of, as he had previously planned, deliberately causing an accident at the end of the year and spending a few months in the Hospital Wing before successfully leaving Hogwarts.
He rushed to the bathroom in a few steps, splashed cold water on his face to wake himself up properly, and then spoke to the dripping wet face in the mirror:
"You've already worked hard enough just by transmigrating here. The Dementors in Azkaban didn't break you, and the unusual rules in the prison didn't stump you. You spent a full half-year in that sunless place, not to become curse fodder for someone after getting out."
"You don't know much about the Harry Potter movies, but that's no reason to give up. You have the body of an adult in the Wizarding World, a reserve of magic sufficient to make a living, foreknowledge of a certain year in the future, and you know who will be the one to defeat that guy."
"You even have a System that you acquired for some unknown reason—you shouldn't be afraid. The one who should be afraid is the person who cursed you."
He hastily wiped his face dry and suppressed his fear of the Mysterious Person.
William had never seen the Mysterious Person, but in Azkaban, he had heard countless stories about the people locked in the deepest parts of the prison.
Every prisoner in the low-security cells trembled when they spoke of the ones in the depths of the prison—most of those who called themselves Death Eaters could still maintain their mental stability under the pressure of the Dementors, even after being locked in the prison's depths for nearly a decade.
Having dealt with those Dementors, William knew very well how terrifying this was, and those Death Eaters were merely followers of the Mysterious Person.
"Started on hard mode, and my itchy fingers went and switched it to hell difficulty. What else can I do? Just have to play on. Who knows, I might just clear the game."
He gave the person in the mirror a strained smile.
"From now on, I'm afraid I won't have time for Potions. At my current level, I might be able to get by on half a year's salary, but if this drags on, I'm afraid I won't even be able to teach the students."
Stepping out of the bathroom with a completely different mood than before, William directly rummaged through the letter's attachments and found the textbooks chosen by Defense Against the Dark Arts professors over the years.
Potions and making money could be completely set aside for now.
For him at present, the most important mission was to buy all these textbooks, then go through the professors' selections to find a series of texts most suitable for his own learning, and thoroughly master them in the time before he went to Hogwarts.
The potions he'd researched the most, the magical creatures that interested him most, the vast history of magic—all these were shoved to the bottom of his trunk. Hogwarts needed a professor for Wizard Self-Defense Magic Learning, so he would make all the necessary preparations to become one, take the position, and avoid any accidents during his tenure.
—
The following days were dull and monotonous. He politely turned down two orders Old Tom had brought him, arranged for all his meals to be sent from The Leaky Cauldron, and aside from a mandatory hour of exercise each day, he spent all his time familiarizing himself with the textbooks.
For two full weeks, William voluntarily cut off all contact with the outside world, single-mindedly staying in his room. After giving the twenty books he had brought back a rough read-through, he then meticulously read the complete First and Second Year textbooks.
Fortunately, the magic for the lower years wasn't difficult for an adult wizard. Furthermore, in the Wizard Self-Defense Magic Learning course that William had forced the school to rename, the study of magic itself didn't make up a large proportion, which greatly eased his worries.
During this period, there were no letters from Hogwarts. Old Tom also expressed his understanding after William showed him the appointment letter, and everything was peaceful. If one had to mention any mail from the outside world, it would be that the owner of Flourish and Blotts, sometime in the middle of William's studies, sent a refund for all the books William had purchased via owl, and even included a pile of newly published books on Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Without exception, these were all the newest editions, for which no second-hand copies were available.
After silently cursing the man for being a profiteer, William shoved the new books to the bottom of his trunk.
He had no confidence at all right now about whether he could be a qualified professor. He was still thinking of copying the previous professor's lesson plans once he got to the school, so how could he abruptly decide on new textbooks? Hogwarts wouldn't protest such an action, but he wanted to stay for a while longer.
On the seventeenth day of William's secluded study of the books, there was a knock on his room's door.
"Little William, someone's here for you."
Old Tom stood outside the door, his voice filled with an irrepressible joy.
The bookshop owner didn't get a reply and came to find me himself?
William was stunned for a moment, immediately thinking of the letter from a few days ago—he had been so busy he didn't even have time to write a reply, so he had simply let the owl fly back empty-handed.
In any case, the upcoming textbooks were going to be chosen from the books he had already purchased, so he wasn't worried about any problems arising from accepting those few books without saying anything.
Could that guy really be so blinded by profit that he'd come all the way here to pester me into choosing his new books as the textbook?
William had originally wanted to tell Old Tom to turn the person away, but on second thought, he decided to give Old Tom some face—he would make things clear and make that owner give up for good.
If he really pissed me off, I'll just use the oldest, most-published book as the textbook and see how many copies he can sell then!
(end of chapter)