From Azkaban to Hogwarts

Chapter 8 The New Inmate

Hogwarts was a good school, and being a professor at Hogwarts was a career choice most people would have been satisfied with, if not very well paid.

Except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

After Hogwarts hired a bunch of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors at a rate that seemed like it was using professors for food, rumors began to spread that Hogwarts was cannibalizing people -- bah, the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts was cursed.

What's more, not only has this theory not been disproved, but Hogwarts has not stopped recruiting Defense Against the Dark Arts professors.

So Munton shoved the "Just give it a try" phrase back into his stomach almost instantly -- no international joke, he'd just managed to escape Azkaban by guesswork, and he'd be better sent back to Azkaban as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, where the dementors were safe.

He shivered again at the thought of Azkaban -- there was nothing good about those unscrupulous boys picking on one of his poor, middle-aged wizards, especially when they were prepared to do everything they said they were going to do, cleaning toilets and confessions, and especially when the youngest had a bad conscience. There's nothing wrong with being in Azkaban.

An idea came into his mind for an instant, and it never came back.

'What if those fellows were made Defense Against the Dark Arts professors at Hogwarts? '

It had solved Dumbledore's big problem for the public and avenged it for him in private - although it was likely that he would leave Azkaban early because of this, no professor in that position would last a year, and most likely they would have to go to hospital for some time.

At this thought, Munton's smile broke, and his mouth curled in a sharp curve. "If you can't find a professor outside, you can go to Azkaban. There's a lot of people there who have a little bit of dark magic in them.

"A professor, teaching them to Azkaban?"

Moody looked at Munton with a "you've lost your mind" look.

"I think I've got enough prisoners in Azkaban, I don't need any more people from Hogwarts."

"It's not like every prisoner should be there for life. For minor offenders, you can teach normal things."

More and more, Monton felt that his idea was possible, and that if he had to leave his teaching years behind or even shorter, the best option would be to go to lesser offenders, who could be somewhat forgiven for their crimes without breaking the law and getting the job done.

And with that choice, there's so much chance that one of his cellmates will become a professor, that he's going to make money for any asshole.

Do two things with one idea, it pays to do two things.

...

When William and his family returned to their cell, they found that their cell had been stolen again.

But this time the spirits were high, and there was nothing like the disappointment of the last one -- it was less than one Galleon, not even the value of the chocolate they consumed every day in prison.

Not because of the loss of money, but because the cell will soon be filled with a new inmate.

That means plenty of outside news and new fun, which is quite something to celebrate in Azkaban, where daily life is dull.

The replenishment ships would occasionally bring in a newspaper, but that kind of grab was expensive and not much of an interesting thing to do. How could a live prisoner bring much information?

Wouldn't it be a double pleasure to have a new prisoner with the same talent as William?

William was happy, too. A new man meant a new treasure chest -- what if this one got a rarer card?

Or it would be nice to be a Hogwarts undergrad this time, cheating on exams or using magic outside of school. That would push his increasingly slow magic studies past several levels in a row.

Unfortunately, everyone was wrong this time.

This time it wasn't a person...

Although he had known for a long time that the magical world was real, and that there were a lot of non-human beings in the magical world, but after a non-human magical creature became his cellmate, William was still a bad person.

It was all a little monster, with two big bat-like slaps and bulging eyes, not much smaller than a tennis ball -- and, above all, nothing resembling a cute character.

He was short, his clothes were dirty, and he was almost thrown in by his battering hands.

The batter didn't even try to make a wisecracking remark, threw the guy in and left with a black face, like the little guy owed him a lot of money and couldn't pay him back, so he had to blow him off in jail.

"Ah, Willem, blessed is our cell."

The big thief patted William on the shoulder, let William's heart a burst of fun desire floating over -- fortunately the big man didn't say that our cell is rich.

Stifling his amusement, Willem pointed to a magical creature he didn't recognize. "What's that?"

"You don't even know a smuggler?"

Where did you get that sense of irony that you don't know what you're doing when you're a farmer?

"Coincidentally, I have not seen it for a short time. What is it?"

"House-elves, top of the line household helpers, only purebred has, tut, it's a status symbol."

"Expensive?"

"You smuggle money from day to day, no pursuit at all, no wonder your stories are human, clearly the companion and centaur are also good good?"

What's wrong is you!

And, you black market guy, how do you get any more confidence than smuggling? Everyone's squatting in Azkaban, so why don't you say "Brother"?

"Well, I'll tell you what, not only are these guys working for less than a kart, they eat less, they work more, they're so loyal, they never think of leaving for another house when they're serving a family, and they're pretty good at it, you wouldn't expect a mediocre school graduate to beat these house-elves."

"Said the big one, looking up at the skylight as if he were imagining he had a house-elf.

"And most important of all, these guys do a better job than the best butler, whether you live in a modest house or a huge castle, they keep the house in order, serve delicious meals when you get home, warm the fireplace, wash all the clothes, and wipe all the furniture down -- all without paying a single nut!"

Man, smart furniture is not that convenient!

William could not help admiring him.

Just as he was dreaming of getting mixed up with a house-elf himself, the new inmate stood up.

"Hello, my name is Gold!"

The new house-elf looked up, serious.

"If you pay me enough Galleons, I will provide the perfect service for the employer!""Coincidentally, I have not seen it for a short time. What is it?"

"House-elves, top of the line household helpers, only purebred has, tut, it's a status symbol."

"Expensive?"

"You smuggle money from day to day, no pursuit at all, no wonder your stories are human, clearly the companion and centaur are also good good?"

What's wrong is you!

And, you black market guy, how do you get any more confidence than smuggling? Everyone's squatting in Azkaban, so why don't you say "Brother"?

"Well, I'll tell you what, not only are these guys working for less than a kart, they eat less, they work more, they're so loyal, they never think of leaving for another house when they're serving a family, and they're pretty good at it, you wouldn't expect a mediocre school graduate to beat these house-elves."

"Said the big one, looking up at the skylight as if he were imagining he had a house-elf.

"And most important of all, these guys do a better job than the best butler, whether you live in a modest house or a huge castle, they keep the house in order, serve delicious meals when you get home, warm the fireplace, wash all the clothes, and wipe all the furniture down -- all without paying a single nut!"

Man, smart furniture is not that convenient!

William could not help admiring him.

Just as he was dreaming of getting mixed up with a house-elf himself, the new inmate stood up.

"Hello, my name is Gold!"

The new house-elf looked up, serious.

"If you pay me enough Galleons, I will provide the perfect service for the employer!"