Harry Potter: Reborn as a Prisoner in Azkaban

"Hagrid, Hagrid! Are you there?"

Near the hunter's hut, William shouted loudly without even approaching. He was a practical man, and since there were no classes today, he might as well investigate the matter thoroughly.

Although, in theory, the death of a rooster at school wasn't a big deal, he was currently under a curse. Let's not forget, the same curse claimed a Professor's life last year. He couldn't afford to be careless.

Even though, in theory, he had Professor Lockhart, the unlucky one, as a companion in this mess, it did little to ease William's nerves. Lockhart was a renowned adventurer, a recipient of the Merlin Medal. And William? He was just an ex-convict fresh out of Azkaban. Even his soul transmigration landed him straight into prison.

When compared, even the most confident version of William wouldn't believe Lockhart would act as his fallback. Thus, he approached any sudden incidents at the school with utmost caution.

If I don't investigate this myself, who else can I count on? Leaving a matter of life and death in someone else's hands… How stupid would that be?'

With that thought in mind, William shouted toward the hut as he approached it from a distance.

The path around the hut was messy and chaotic. William didn't dare walk through it casually. Just the other day, he had a chat with Professor Kettleburn, who couldn't stop praising Hagrid. According to him, Hagrid possessed a unique intuition for magical creatures, unmatched by most wizards.

That was probably the most alarming praise one could hear at Hogwarts. After all, Professor Kettleburn himself had lost two and a half limbs to magical creatures.

Under normal circumstances, William would've had the courage to venture closer, but given the recent chicken theft, he wasn't about to take any chances. Who knew what traps Hagrid might have set? These magical creature enthusiasts could lose their own legs to their traps. How much would they care about someone else's?

"Hagrid! Hagrid, are you there?" William called out again.

He didn't trust his secondhand knowledge enough to navigate through a forested area that had been the man's playground for half a lifetime.

"Is that you, William? Why don't you come over?"

"I heard you lost a rooster. The area looks chaotic, and I'm afraid you might've set traps."

"No traps at all," Hagrid's voice rose, though he didn't quite control it well.

To William, it sounded like a thunderclap exploding right next to his ears. A small gust of wind blew past, sending the leaves on the ground swirling briefly.

Fine, no traps. But why are you yelling so loudly?

Suppressing the awkwardness that came from nowhere, William walked over quickly, using sarcasm to distract himself.

"Why's the undergrowth such a mess? I thought you might've laid some traps."

He waved in greeting and, while approaching, rubbed his slightly aching ear. Now that he thought about it; Did Hagrid usually keep his voice down?

"I didn't set any traps. When Dumbledore recommended me for the gamekeeper, he sternly warned me that traps were forbidden at Hogwarts. They might hurt the kids."

As Hagrid explained, he gestured toward the surrounding underbrush with his large hand. "That's Fang's doing. He probably thought the culprit might still be hiding there. First thing this morning, he started digging around the bushes."

Digging?

William froze for a moment, then quickly walked over to take a look around. Initially, he hoped to find some trace of the perpetrator; human hairs or maybe some fur from a weasel. But now the area was so thoroughly dug up that even Sherlock Holmes would've shed tears. For William, a complete amateur, it was hopeless.

Reluctantly poking around for a while, he finally admitted defeat and stood up.

"Hagrid, where's the rooster?"

"Haha, don't worry. It's almost done simmering. I checked it thoroughly; no poison. Stay for lunch, no need to head back to the castle. I just got my hands on a fine bottle of wine."

"Simmering?"

"What, you wanted it roasted? There's not much meat on a rooster if you roast it. Besides, I've only got one rooster left. It's my alarm clock! I can't kill it."

William suddenly lost the desire to speak. He quickly walked over to the stove and lifted the lid.

The rooster had been dismembered quite thoroughly.

"How did it die?"

"Blood was drained from it, probably bitten to death by a fox or something. I suppose I should buy another one; Otherwise, I'll only have one rooster left."

***

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Hagrid, William firmly declined his overenthusiastic invitation to stay for lunch and headed straight back to the castle. Although Hagrid had destroyed the evidence by cooking the chicken, William's suspicions were confirmed.

This wasn't the work of an animal; it was man-made.

It's a pity Mr. Filch and the house-elves are too diligent. Otherwise, the blood near the castle entrance could have served as evidence.

William hadn't gone to Hagrid's hut right away. His first stop was the castle entrance, where he'd hoped to examine the bloodstains. Unfortunately, the area had already been cleaned spotless by the house-elves. While he wanted to curse someone, he couldn't really complain.

Even professional police officers in Sherlock Holmes' cases often accidentally destroyed critical evidence, let alone complete amateurs like them. Besides, even if the traces had been left behind, William wouldn't have been able to make sense of them.

I'm neither a forensic expert nor a die-hard detective novel fan. Investigating a case at Hogwarts is really asking too much of me.

Don't panic. You wouldn't understand the traces anyway. Even if it really were a weasel, the effort wouldn't amount to much. Investigating at least gives me peace of mind… this is a matter of my leg or some other vital organ. It's worth the trouble.

Comforting himself that way, William tried to find some humor in the situation. He decided to draw on the minuscule talent for detective work he'd cultivated during his leisure time watching Detective Conan, though he hadn't even unlocked the most basic skill.

Motive: the blood of the rooster.

Time of the crime: sometime between last night and this morning—damn it, I forgot to ask Hagrid when exactly the rooster died!

As soon as William tried to think calmly, he realized he'd missed an important clue.

Don't rush, William. Keep calm. Rushing leads to mistakes, just like you did earlier. Whenever you think too hard, problems come up.

Taking a deep breath, he fished a piece of chocolate from his pocket.

William slowly ate the chocolate before pulling paper and a pen from his bag. He found an empty classroom without any classes and sat down.

"Good. Use paper and a pen to document everything."

[Motive: Obtain rooster blood.]

[Time of the crime: Undetermined (requires cross-verification; Filch, house-elves, and Hagrid are all worth questioning).]

[Method: Killing the rooster by biting or a similar method to drain its blood.]

Good, now let's go further.

[Hypothesis 1: The perpetrator entered and exited the castle through the main entrance. (Easily ruled out; ask this question first.)]

[Hypothesis 2: The perpetrator used a secret passage to enter and exit the castle, bringing the blood inside. (Can inquire with the portraits.)]

[Hypothesis 3: The perpetrator magically bypassed Filch's locks. (Unlikely, cross it out.)]

[Hypothesis 4: The perpetrator remained completely invisible throughout.]

"…"

The more William thought, the more chaotic his mind became. As he wrote, even his formatting started to fall apart.

Damn cloudy weather. He muttered to himself and stuffed another piece of chocolate into his mouth.

Focus, your life depends on it!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, William continued writing on the paper.

[The perpetrator is likely very familiar with the castle, familiar enough to enter and exit freely. Suspect…]

I shouldn't focus entirely on them… Those kids don't necessarily need to be investigated. Too many of them have been put in detention. If this was just a trial attempt, most of them could actually become allies.

Crossing out the line above, William began scribbling again.

***

He was so engrossed that he only became alert when someone tried to push open the classroom door. His wand was in his hand in an instant.

Damn it, I've been too focused on this and let my guard down!

"Oh—Professor William, it's me, Lockhart."

The visitor greeted him with his trademark smile, showing off his dazzlingly perfect teeth. Those teeth were the kind that would make a dentist want to extract them immediately and preserve them as an exhibition piece.

"Professor Lockhart, are you planning to use this room for a class?"

"Oh, no, no, Professor William. I came here specifically to see you."

Lockhart's smile grew even brighter, and it made William uneasy. They say knowledge has its order, and different fields have their experts. For all I know, Lockhart might be better at dealing with curses than Dumbledore himself. Maybe he's figured out how to lift a curse; like passing it on to someone else?

What am I even thinking? Damn cloudy weather!

William reached for another piece of chocolate. The warmth spread from his stomach, dispelling his discomfort.

"Professor Lockhart, care for some?"

"Thank you, but no. Chocolate isn't great for the teeth. I don't usually eat it," Lockhart replied after a brief hesitation, declining the offer while flashing an even brighter smile.

"Well, Professor William, here's the thing. You know about my club, don't you?"

Club? What does that have to do with the attacks? Could someone think that dear Lockhart is too comfortable and needs a scare? If so, they'd splash paint or chicken blood—wait, the rooster! The rooster was innocent!

Hold on, rooster blood… Could this be some kind of ritual to ward off evil? Is that a thing in Britain? Should I write this down?

"Professor William?"

"Oh, I'm listening. I was just thinking that Professor Lockhart's club must be very lively."

"Absolutely! It's fantastic. We're still taking reservations, so some students have to come on weekends. In fact, weekends are barely enough. I was thinking of hosting a banquet one evening, to give them a chance to spend a delightful evening together."

"That's a wonderful idea, Professor Lockhart," William replied, completely baffled but trying to sound supportive.

"Yes, exactly. But here's the issue. Some of the children… well, they have detention on weekends. So I was wondering if it might be possible to free up one evening for them to enjoy a pleasant night instead."

Now it made sense. This so-called adventurer wasn't even concerned about the rooster's death. He was pleading for the sake of those unfortunate students in detention.

Did those brats feed Professor Lockhart a love potion or something? How does he even dare make such a request?

The thought crossed his mind, but William didn't reject the idea outright.

"Oh, Professor Lockhart, that's a great suggestion, but I'm afraid I can't agree. You know how much students despise unfairness."

"That's right."

"Although I'd love to agree with you, I'm afraid Professor McGonagall and the other three Heads of Houses wouldn't approve of such an idea. It would divide the students into two groups. How about this… if all four Heads agree, I certainly won't have any objections. Otherwise, the students still serving detention would be too pitiful."

"But the Heads of Houses—"

"Professor Lockhart, I believe in you. Your students believe in you too." William patted Professor Lockhart's shoulder with a look that said, 'I have faith in you'.

After all, while Lockhart might have spent years writing books, surely his final exams weren't just written and oral tests?

With a smile and a look of expectation, William gathered the long roll of paper he'd written on and left the empty classroom.

After that encounter with Professor Lockhart, even the gloomy weather didn't feel so depressing anymore.

***

"I'm telling you, that Professor William. While walking through the castle, he suddenly ate a piece of chocolate and then rushed into an empty classroom. We thought he was up to something, so we secretly peeked inside. Guess what he was doing?"

"How would we know?"

"Studying magic?"

"Reading a book?"

"Replying to letters?"

In the Gryffindor common room, a group of students sat around, listening to the storyteller in the middle spinning his tale.

After rejecting all the guesses with a shake of his head, the boy at the center finally announced the answer, deliberately drawing out his words. "You'd never guess—he was writing an exam!"

Hiss!

A chorus of gasps filled the room.

"Writing an exam, just like that? While walking? Impossible!"

"I saw it with my own eyes! When Lockhart went in, Professor William was still scribbling furiously. Would writing a letter make that much noise?"

"But speaking of; Do you think tricking Professor Lockhart into applying to cancel one day of detention is really going to work?"

"Of course! Don't forget, there's that club—"

The speaker abruptly cut himself off as if remembering something.

"What about the club?"

"Nothing. Just saying, without the club, we wouldn't have come up with such a great way to avoid detention."

"Ugh, whatever!"

The others scoffed in disbelief. At that moment, someone burst into the common room in a panic.

"The Professor! The Professor is coming!"

The room immediately descended into chaos; professors visiting the common room were never good news for the students.

"Clean up! Hide the chairs, the cushions—grab the cushions! Quickly!"

"Candy! And your robes—fix your robes!"

The group shouted out commands that even they couldn't logically follow. At that moment, everyone acted like a commander. After all, some things might be tolerable in the eyes of a prefect, but they were absolutely unacceptable to a professor.

"It's not Professor McGonagall; it's Professor William!"

Amid the chaos, the messenger delivered the most crucial piece of information.

The noisy common room suddenly quieted down. Several students who had been using their wands to move things quickly set them down and redirected their focus.

"Hmm?"

It was just one word, but the meaning was crystal clear.

"Professor William asked me to come and call everyone. He said there's an opportunity to get out of a week of detention. If we're late, we'll miss it."

"Then what are we waiting for?!"

The common room erupted into excitement once more.

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