From Azkaban to Hogwarts

Chapter 7 The Search for Failure

The new chest has two duplicate cards and a new card.

【 Smuggler Monton (R); In most underground markets, there are rumors of Monton the Smuggler, who is said to bring you anything for enough Galleons.

Skill Trading: Destroy this card. In any purchase of an item, you can successfully purchase it by paying far more currency than the price of the item. 】

Without hesitation, William again chose the card with no chance of defeat.

He then quickly rummaged through the system's warehouse and found that the note on the back of Munton's card had been changed to hate.

Boy, it didn't hurt him -- didn't the Nine Fingers have a door in their mouth, so Monton could hear them when they said it as a joke?

Not impossible.

Willem speculated as he walked toward a young boy.

He had made it clear in recent days that if ever there was a fellow in prison who knew the basics of magic, it was this one.

It wasn't that he was a young prodigy who had been caught up in prison by calculating the Ministry of Magic at a young age -- the main reason he was clean was because he had been at Hogwarts not long before.

As we all know, where there are exams, there are cheaters, and Hogwarts is the size of a school where cheaters are caught every year.

The guy got caught cheating on the O.W.L. and instead of being expelled, he had to spend half a year in Azkaban, so he got into Azkaban.

Hogwarts is not a place where everyone graduates. Most of the prisoners in Azkaban were Hogwarts drop-outs, either failing too many exams, releasing magic from outside school, dropping out of school themselves, seriously violating school rules... As for the rest of the prisoners, most of them were Hogwarts graduates again.

If you look at the prisoner's school without reference to other information, you may not think that Hogwarts is doing some kind of joint activity with Azkaban.

Though not uncommon in the wizarding world, someone like William, who had never been to Hogwarts but had been hand-picked by an older wizard, was one of the least unusual in Azkaban -- a skill that had been passed down from generation to generation, and was far less likely to break the law.

The Goat was selling potions when William found him.

It wasn't exactly potions -- most of them would have lost their effect without wand help when boiled, or Potions wouldn't have stopped so many wizards.

Rather than simply measuring the proportion of materials, adding order and a series of normative actions, the appropriate magic to help shape the potion is more important.

Potions like the ones being marketed by the Goat, which have no wand and rely solely on the erratic magical manipulation of a wizard and the action of the herbs themselves, are so unstable that the effects of taking them pulsate between diarrhea and not being able to get them to hospital.

But it wasn't something to drink, it was something to use - and William easily recognized it as an imperfect version of a love potion.

After all, he had been a potion-maker himself, and he knew more about it from memory.

You can't take this potion, but the smell alone is a perfect treat in Azkaban, with a pungent, uncooked flavor, but it's a perfect prison potion for this purpose -- a potion that reminds you of your favorite flavors.

"Fresh out of the oven - more addictive than chocolate!"

The Goat was enthusiastically marketed to Willem in a way that gave him no indication that he was a prisoner of Azkaban.

"Love potion?" Willem frowned. "What price?"

"Fifty Galleons a bottle of grace, expert -- don't be too expensive, this is Azkaban, and this little bottle will save you a month!"

A month?

Willem smiled. From his half-baked knowledge, it was a miracle that it had survived for two weeks at all -- a half-finished potion he was afraid to burst in his pocket.

Seeing that William had no intention of paying, the Goat's face suddenly changed.

He impatiently waved his hand: "poor ghost go fast, don't affect my business!"

Oh -- you're not afraid of being beaten to death when your medicine expires.

Willem turned and walked away without even trying to continue the conversation -- he had thought that one of his students had been in Azkaban, not eating or sleeping well, and that some leftover chocolate from the day would be a fair exchange for a statement about what was taught at Hogwarts.

But now, the other side has such a big business, even the chocolate has no meaning, people are focused on money, who wants your broken chocolate?

...

It took Munton half a day to convince Moody that he was just tired and ready to rest -- or pretended to believe it, but Munton couldn't ask for more.

He was too embarrassed to throw off his face and pants in front of his old friend to leave a surprise for his fellow prisoners, so he left Azkaban with Mad-Eye in a state of regret.

In the end, however, he took the nine sickles and fifteen nats with him, as the last dispossession of the wealth of the jerks.

As a part-time thief of smugglers, never in the habit of leaving a settlement empty-handed, this is the face.

Mad-eye sneers at this, and even tries to destroy the money along with the uniforms on the boat off the island, but Munton insists on keeping the booty.

"Mundungus, no stealing when you get out of prison this time, and if you go back to Azkaban, don't expect me to fish you out for an old friend."

"Of course not, I was thinking of helping Dumbledore for a few more years!"

The freedom and the fresh air brought by the sea breeze made Monton so comfortable that he even said in a cheerful tone what he had never thought possible before he went to prison.

Compared to the horrors of Azkaban, Dumbledore had so much work to do that he could even slack off at work and help the Ministry with a cheap shipment!

Mad-eye looked at Munton carefully, then smiled.

"I don't suppose you'll be much help this time -- Albus's worried."

"Anything Dumbledore can't fix?"

Munton's voice was full of confidence; he had more confidence in Dumbledore than in himself.

"Yes, there's no Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts again, so why don't you try?"

"How hard it is, can't Monton --"

In the middle of the sentence, Munton slapped his hand quickly to his mouth and forced himself to swallow the rest of the sentence.