"?"
"What's the matter?"
Seeing William frozen in front of the podium, the old man's face showed a hint of amusement, but he still suppressed his grin and asked calmly.
"..."
William ignored him, casually flipping through the book on the desk—I'm flabbergasted, it's the real deal. Though it's just a Muggle World university physics textbook, where is this? Hogwarts! Who teaches physics here...
"Three books per person, make sure not to hand them out wrong—"
Three books?
Hearing this, William's heart stirred slightly as he set aside "Basic Physics" and fell into a long silence.
After a moment, he looked up at the smiling old man with a calm tone, "Alright."
Damn it, even after crossing worlds, this damned math and science still chase me—William, who was a liberal arts student in his past life, angrily shouted in his heart.
Yet, despite his inner turmoil, William maintained a calm demeanor as he distributed the stack of books according to categories to everyone in the classroom. After seeing everyone had their textbooks, he too returned to his seat, but his gaze remained fixed on the old man at the podium, his brow slightly furrowed—
Why did this old man want him to help distribute the books? For a normal wizard, Levitating Spells are not a difficult thing, yet the old man showed no intention of even raising his arm, just leaning against the podium, smiling at the little wizards below.
William's thoughts moved; if excluding the possibility that this old man just wanted to find him trouble, then it can only mean...
With the development over millennia, magic has long woven into the lives of these wizards for tasks like moving supplies, washing clothes, cooking, arranging chores—all these have corresponding magic, which, although requiring some sunk learning cost, brings exponentially increasing convenience afterward.
At Hogwarts, only freshly enrolled little wizards typically haven't learned these spells.
Professors like Snape have long habitually used magic in their daily lives—for instance, each time before entering the classroom, Snape would deliberately use magic to float his black cloak aloft as he strides quickly through the room.
Of course, it doesn't actually serve any special function, merely to show off.
Thus, throughout Hogwarts, apart from Mr. Filch, you wouldn't find anyone as simplistic as "Professor Graves".
Even Hagrid, who once had his wand broken, continued using magic, albeit cautiously. Although no one would constantly watch him, the Ministry of Magic had indeed made a decision; even Dumbledore wouldn't protest openly—
Except that decree has been overturned; through the case of the Armenian old wizard and Lockhart, Dumbledore conveniently pinned the recent Secret Chamber incident on Lockhart and cleared Hagrid's name, since the creature was not the Acromantula as initially suspected.
Otherwise, given Hagrid's status, becoming a professor wouldn't be simple.
And William was completely certain from here—cut open Dumbledore and half of him would be dark; the so-called greatest White Lord of the twentieth century? Bah!
But now the problem lies in front of William—seriously, are you planning to teach them math and science?
Looking at the crowd of wizards around, who were still somewhat bewildered and excited as they leafed through their textbooks, a subtle trace of pity flashed in William's eyes; math, physics, and chemistry... such things...
Seeing everyone had received their books, the old man didn't hurry, instead slowly walked to the side of the classroom. With a pull of a thin cord by the wall, the entire room instantly plunged into darkness.
Blanketed in darkness, the little wizards found themselves in chaos, but William didn't move; he merely confirmed his hypothesis within.
Is this old man truly unable to use magic?
He didn't suspect the old man was a Muggle; after all, he previously sensed a strong Dark Arts aura from him. Though the sense vanished now for some reason, it didn't change his prior judgment—the old man undoubtedly was a master of the Dark Arts.
Could it be—Grindelwald... through perusing nearly half of Dumbledore's life's gossip column, William effortlessly pinpointed the suspect: age fits the requirement, ethnicity fits the requirement, sensed power fits the requirement, even the "refresh" location fits—such coincidences don't happen in this world!
When all elements converge like this, even the most unlikely outcome can only be reality!
Who would've thought Dumbledore actually managed to quietly release Grindelwald from Nimongard Prison without alerting a single news outlet, suggesting the International Confederation of Wizards likely remains oblivious to this high-profile escape—
Yes, unlike Voldemort, a regional terrorist leader, though Grindelwald wasn't as insane in his killings as the noseless monster, his impact was far greater than Voldemort, as Grindelwald nearly became President of the International Confederation of Wizards. If he had succeeded back then, the subsequent influence would far surpass Voldemort's.
Hmm...
If his conjectures are correct, he seems to hold a leverage over Dumbledore now?
... Hehe.
Recalling the embarrassment last semester, where William, painstakingly hiding at the Headmaster's Office, was exposed by one slip from Dumbledore, while Phineas Black laughed at him from the sidelines...
Hmm, time to devise a way to let old Dumbledore taste this feeling.
With these thoughts, William's lips couldn't help but curl into a curve full of mischievousness, gazing at what seemed to be Grindelwald, his demeanor becoming noticeably friendlier.
...
Meanwhile, inside the Headmaster's Office.
"Knock—"
Hide behind his desk, secretly munching on Sizzling Honey Candy, Dumbledore's expression suddenly tensed. He quickly stowed the candy up his sleeve, maintaining eye contact forward, then sat upright, his voice calm, "Come in."
"Headmaster, the Ministry of Magic—"
Minerva McGonagall rushed in, her stride brisk, her tone urgent. But upon seeing Dumbledore, suspicion flashed across her face, followed by a touch of annoyance that quietly climbed her cheeks. The abrupt change in expression made Dumbledore's heart tighten.
"Albus, were you sneaking candy again?"
McGonagall's lips appeared taut, yet her voice was featherlight.
"Oh, Minerva, what are you saying? Of course not, I was just..."
Dumbledore's face showed a subtly detectable embarrassment, yet he firmly shook his head, his tone calmly unwavering.
"Before you deny it, I suggest you clean your beard—"
"What!?"
Dumbledore reflexively touched his mouth corner but instantly realized he was caught.
Just as expected, seeing Dumbledore's move, Professor Meow's previously uncertain expression sank starkly. She tossed her documents onto the desk, hands on hips, voice losing its prior calm, "Albus, the healer from St Mungo's said—"
"... Minerva! Spare me!"