"Scourgify."
William waved his wand, cleaning up the mess on the table. He then conjured a glass of clear water and handed it to Adams.
However, Adams was already slumped motionless on the table, completely useless.
William couldn't help but grimace. Pathetic drunkard with no tolerance. Where does he get the courage to go around toasting at tables with this kind of capacity?
Annoyed, William cleaned the floor as well, waiting for the bar owner to come over and reprimand them. After all, throwing up directly on the table and nearly into a glass, was far too much, even for a place like this.
Yet, after waiting for a long while, not only did the bar owner not show up, but the other patrons also acted as if nothing had happened. It was as though vomiting on the table was perfectly normal.
William's face turned pale. Damn, this sketchy bar. The floor felt sticky when I walked in, but I clearly confirmed earlier it was made of stone.
The alchemy professor beside him, determined to enjoy his solitude, made no move to assist. Initially, he'd reached for his wand but, upon seeing William handle the mess, retreated as if he were just some stranger sharing the table.
If I'm not mistaken, weren't we here as a group?
William glanced at his companions; one drunk and passed out, the other withdrawn and silent. Then he looked at the bottle he'd barely touched and found himself questioning his life choices.
Most patrons here were masked, so trying to find someone to chat with, as one might at the Leaky Cauldron, was out of the question.
Bored out of his mind, William started observing others while sipping his drink to pass the time.
Back in Azkaban, prisoners often entertained themselves by guessing what crimes newcomers had committed. Of course, wagers were usually involved. After spending years in such an environment, William had developed a knack for the same.
At the far-left table, it was obvious the wizard was selling counterfeit goods. William could tell at a glance that the item's price tag was far too high to match anything sold in such a shabby bar.
The next table over featured a witch flirting with a wizard. William wasn't entirely sure she was a witch; thanks to Polyjuice Potion, he knew full well that gender was a flexible concept among wizards. Anyone frequenting this kind of place probably didn't care much about the legality of using the potion.
To his right sat two nervous people who were clearly newcomers. Judging by how they kept glancing around, it was probably their first time in a dive bar.
One of them was short, but their build didn't resemble a woman's. They were obviously underage and likely seeking some thrill.
Then there was—Wait!
William suddenly snapped to attention. Underage? In a dive bar? And it's a Wednesday?
Given the bar's proximity to Hogwarts, William instantly suspected they were students from the school.
Skipping classes, leaving school grounds illegally, and underage drinking.
As someone who had dutifully read the entirety of the school's teacher code of conduct, William knew these offenses were enough to warrant at least half a semester's worth of detention.
So, should I drag them back to school?
Normally, William wouldn't have cared about such things. However, perhaps due to years in Azkaban and exposure to too much negativity, he found himself unwilling to see young people go astray. Or maybe it was the sense of responsibility that came with being a teacher; despite the short time he'd been one, that made him hesitate.
"Let's just give them a warning," he muttered to himself. Judging by their behavior, this is probably their first time here. They likely used a secret passage to get in. If they cooperate, I'll just persuade them to head back to school.
After some deliberation, William stood up and walked over to their table with his glass in hand.
"First-timers?" His voice, muffled by the bandages around his face, came out in a strange, echoing tone.
"We're not! We're regulars!" Almost instinctively, the two of them refuted his statement in unison.
Sure enough, they were two students skipping class. From their voices, William immediately determined that they were definitely underage.
He just wasn't sure if they were his students.
It wasn't uncommon for fifth-year students to vent their exam stress by sneaking into dive bars; especially since William had just failed them all recently.
But common or not, rules were rules. They had to be caught.
"Regulars? Regulars who don't recognize me? Has my presence here dwindled so much this year that even newcomers don't respect me?" William instinctively replied, using the tone and banter he'd picked up in Azkaban. It had been a while, but the habit surfaced easily, as natural as ever.
"Yes, yes, we've only started coming here this year," the two quickly latched onto his words, pouring drinks with clumsy movements and raising their glasses as if to toast him. "Today's just our first time getting familiar with things!"
With a mindset of catching thieves red-handed, William played along and shared a drink with them. Then, putting on a mysterious air, he said, "Alright, running into you two today must be fate. Come with me. I'll show you something that'll open your eyes and explain why I can hold my own at the Hog's Head."
Drink shared, identities confirmed, his plan was simple; Lure them out of the bar, catch them, and make those two troublemakers write a thorough reflection. If they didn't listen, straight to detention!
***
Five minutes earlier.
"Fred, the Hog's Head isn't as impressive as people say. We're just wasting our time here."
"Be patient! This is Hogwarts' biggest black market. Didn't you hear about how Hagrid supposedly bought a dragon egg here?"
The two of them, holding drinks strictly forbidden for their age, tried to appear casual as they observed their surroundings and whispered to each other.
"All we need are some uncommon magical materials. Was it really necessary to skip class to come here?"
"What else could we do? Wait and trade with other students? We've already spent too much buying Lockhart's textbooks this year. Ginny's using secondhand books, and we still need to save up for Christmas presents. This place has the cheapest prices."
Both weighed their coin pouches in their hands, resolutely confirming their decision to shop here.
"Hey, Fred, look over there. That guy!"
The two exchanged glances, their eyes landing on a figure who, despite having his face completely covered, was glancing around nervously.
"That must be him. Who else but a smuggler would come to a bar and keep looking around like that?"
"How do we approach him?"
"Wait, don't rush, George. We're not even sure of his identity yet. The Hog's Head has plenty of people selling fake goods. Don't forget what Dad always says about the counterfeit dealers they catch."
"If he's selling fakes, we could catch him. Maybe we'd earn some pocket money. Didn't Dad mention there's a bounty for busting counterfeit dealers?"
"It's not a bounty; they just take the credit for the arrest. But whatever—it's still extra cash for supplies."
"Same difference. But we can't do it here in the bar. I've heard that the owner doesn't tolerate conflicts inside. Besides, if it gets out that we skipped class, I don't want to end up with a Howler like Ron did."
The thought made both of them shudder, cutting off their conversation.
"He's coming. Get ready!"