Anton ran out of the door and glanced back. The entire building, constructed haphazardly with wooden and iron plates, swayed with magical light.
He couldn't afford to wait any longer; he had to leave quickly.
This was the deepest part of Knockturn Alley, where countless tents, shacks, and makeshift houses were scattered in every corner of the large lake. It resembled a slum, but it was much more terrifying than an ordinary slum.
There was a witch who seemed to be muttering nonsensical things while cooking a pot of green, unusual bubbling substances.
There were also children playing with a few dolls, but upon closer inspection, Anton realized that those dolls were dried and shriveled!
Before Anton could get far, he noticed several malicious eyes already fixed on him. There was even one person who was following him.
The phrase "A child holds gold in a busy city" flashed through his mind instantly. In his current form, he appeared to be around ten years old, carrying a suitcase larger than his own body. In this dangerous place, Knockturn Alley seemed quite appealing.
Anton pondered for a moment and stopped. He turned his head coldly to look at the man who was following him. The man had big eyes and a large head, but his body was shriveled, his hair was messy, and his teeth were black and yellow.
Anton glanced at the sinister eyes in the distance. With a sneer, he said loudly, "I am Alex Fiennes' apprentice. If my teacher finds out that someone attacked me, he wouldn't hesitate to kill them!"
As he spoke, Anton waved his wand, and the light of a spell burst on the ground in front of the man.
"The Imperius Curse!" the man screamed, quickly taking a few steps back. He stared at Anton for a moment before slowly retreating into the darkness.
Then, all the prying eyes around him vanished.
The Imperius Curse, one of the three unforgivable curses, made it clear to everyone that Anton possessed the power and skill of his master, Fiennes.
Anton laughed, looked around with a sense of superiority, and continued walking forward.
Little did anyone know that the inside of his wizard's robe was covered in cold sweat.
How thrilling!
He was familiar with the Imperius Curse. The only spell he had learned to manipulate souls emitted a similar magical light, easily manipulating people.
Exiting Knockturn Alley, the only corner that led to Diagon Alley, Anton made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.
Finally, he let out a sigh of relief.
But then, he was at a loss.
Where should he go next?
Hogwarts?
That seemed impossible. Not only had he not received an admission letter from an owl, but he also had no idea where the school was located.
Should he rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron first?
He had no money on him, and although there was a high probability that there was enough money in the box to buy ingredients, he didn't dare to open it in such a place. Besides the corpse of Fiennes, there was also a werewolf whose condition he didn't know.
Lupin didn't get along well with people and was excluded everywhere because of his werewolf status.
Suddenly, an idea struck him.
The Weasleys!
Firstly, Lupin was their good friend and could seek their help.
Secondly, although his red hair was different from the Weasleys', it wasn't a major difference. In the European and American races, red-haired Celts were only found in the Weasley family. Moreover, he bore a slight resemblance to Ron. It was possible that they were distant relatives.
But the problem was, he didn't know where their home was.
"What should I do?" Anton looked around blankly, unsure of his next move in this unfamiliar world.
But he refused to give up.
If he couldn't find someone to rely on, then he would rely on himself.
He needed to find a way to earn some money, as it was the most essential requirement for survival.
The bar had a few scattered patrons. The sound of their chatter filled the air, creating a slightly noisy atmosphere.
Anton scanned the room, trying to find an opportunity.
Finally, someone with distinct features caught his attention.
The oversized man, standing at a height of 2.6 meters, was hard to miss.
His face was almost completely covered by a thick head of hair and a bushy beard, and he wore a moleskin coat.
Could this man be Hagrid?
"Mr. Hagrid, it's because of your foolishness that you're in this situation. You should explain it to Dumbledore yourself!" A wizard beside Hagrid had a gloomy expression and a slightly mean tone.
Hagrid seemed restless. "Professor Snape, I..."
He met Snape's piercing gaze, his lips moved, and finally lowered his head pitifully.
After hesitating for a long time, he rubbed his hands on the chair and leaned closer, "Professor Snape, it can be saved, ya'know . Please lend me a hand. I can't let Professor Dumbledore down."
That's it!
So it's really Hagrid, and the other person is Snape!
Anton's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly recalled information about the two individuals, hoping to find something useful.
First of all, even if these two are willing to help him, it's impossible for them to take him to Hogwarts.
Moreover, he couldn't let them know about Lupin's situation. Snape and Lupin were sworn enemies, and he couldn't confide in Hagrid alone. Hagrid had a reputation for being a bit of a blabbermouth, and Snape would find out soon enough.
It seems like the only thing he can do is the same.
Anton looked around cautiously, approached the corner, opened a gap in the suitcase, and peered inside carefully.
Fiennes corpse appeared completely lifeless. Perhaps it was due to the way he had positioned the old wizard. The dagger had sliced through his neck, causing it to snap completely.
Lupin seemed to be in a particularly dire state. He had just been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse and now leaned against the corner with a pale and feeble expression. However, he managed a faint smile upon seeing Anton enter.
Anton raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.
He swiftly opened the suitcase and jumped in, grabbing a glass bottle from the shelf before making a hasty exit.
Fiennes may have been poor, but he possessed numerous treasures.
One such example was the brain of a Moonlight turtle, a valuable potion ingredient from, which was essential for creating the Brain elixir.
It was a case of high demand and scarce supply.
Snape was whispering something to Hagrid when suddenly a small hand raised the glass jar in front of him, asking, "Sir, do you need a brain?"
"No, thank you." Snape glanced indifferently, but his attention was captivated by the brain floating in the liquid within the glass jar.
The corners of his mouth curled slightly as he looked at the slender Anton. "That will be 10 sickles."
"!!!". This guy was really something. Bullying children, huh? Anton was stunned. "10 sickles? Do you think I don't have enough money to buy ice cream or candy?"
Snape fixed at Anton with a cold stare. "You're wearing an ill-fitting wizard's robe. It's evident that your family isn't well-off, and your body is covered in stains and holes. I can even deduce that you're a wanderer."
"This brain is clearly not something you should possess. It's stolen, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately, you don't even know what it is. It's impossible for anyone in Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley to acquire such an item."
"10 sickles? I've decided to purchase it for my collection."
Indeed, if you encounter people who are unaware of this item, it would be impossible to sell it at any price.
However, this particular individual is a renowned potion master we're talking about.
10 sickles? Why so cheap?
Anton pouted and turned to look at Hagrid. Although he was secretly wealthy, he didn't seem interested in the turtle brain in Anton's hands.
"Haha, even the famous potion master doesn't recognize the brain of the Moonlight Turtle. Don't forget that."
He shrugged, holding the glass jar, and turned to leave.
"Hold on!" Snape called from behind.
Anton's mouth curved into a slight smile.