Magic surged within him like a sudden storm breaking over calm waters.
He controlled it slightly, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Stepping down from the chair, he stood tall and met the goblin's gaze.
They stared at each other for a long second.
A slight smile touched Anton's lips. "Greetings. Master Alex Fiennes sends his regards."
It didn't matter if they were friends or foes. Pedro knew he was Fiennes's apprentice, and denying it now would only show weakness.
In a place like this, the weak are cursed.
Pedro roared with laughter, pointing a thick finger at Lupin. "If I'm not mistaken, this one has tasted Fiennes's Cruciatus!"
Anton kept his smile polite, but his eyes turned icy. "Perhaps it was another wizard."
"No, no," the goblin wagged his finger knowingly. "Every curse has its scent. Fiennes's bite is unique." He leaned in, grinning. "You bring his victim to me? You're in a tricky spot, little one."
Anton's jaw tightened. He looked at Lupin, then let out a heavy sigh, his voice cracking with feigned emotion.
"What choice do I have? He is... he is my uncle!"
Tears welled up in his eyes. It was a heartbreaking conflict—love for family versus loyalty to his master—a burden far too heavy for a child to carry.
It was simply unbearable.
"Tsk tsk," the goblin clicked his tongue. "I admire your innocence, child. You haven't been completely corrupted by the darkness yet."
Unnoticed by them, Mr. Rosier watched from the shadows, his eyes sharp. Suddenly, he made a subtle, comical face at Anton.
It was so ridiculous it reminded Anton of Mr. Bean. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
"Mr. Pedro," Anton replied hoarsely, lifting his tear-streaked face. He lowered his voice, looking the goblin straight in the eye. "For my uncle... I am willing to do anything."
Pedro grunted and stepped forward. His thick fingers glowed with a faint blue light as he pressed them to Lupin's forehead.
"Hmm. This is bad."
He pulled back, fetched an ornate box, and offered a cigar to Mr. Rosier before lighting one himself. The thin stick looked comically tiny between his thick, stubby fingers.
Thick smoke billowed as Pedro put his hands in his pockets. "Healing this... is very difficult. And it will cost you dearly."
He can be saved!
Relief washed over Anton like cool water. "How much?"
"How much?" The goblin roared with laughter, and Rosier joined in.
Anton blinked, confused. In his mind, even Hogwarts school nurse could fix almost anything with a wave of her wand. Was he asking for the impossible?
He realized his mistake. He had acted too confident earlier, making them think he was someone who could handle anything. He was still learning the game, but he was taking notes.
The goblin shook his head. "You see your master cast curses day after day, and you think it is nothing?"
Anton nodded. To him, it was almost routine. Fiennes used it on him every few days, and the worst that happened was he passed out. It felt... manageable.
He leaned closer, sneering and revealing his thick, yellowed teeth. "But you don't understand the true weight of it!"
"There are spells far more brutal, spells that tear flesh and shatter bones. In my long life, I have seen horrors that make this curse look like child's play."
"Yet... none of them bear the mark of 'Unforgivable'."
Anton's mind raced, recalling everything he knew. "Is it... because there is no cure?"
Snap!
"Exactly!" Pedro snapped his fingers.
"No counter-curse, no cure. Once an Unforgivable Curse touches you, magic cannot heal you. It is permanent."
He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his voice deep and resonant. "The Three Curses are the most evil magic your kind ever invented."
"There is no cure for a wound to the soul." He leaned in, eyes glinting. "Do you know why wizards rule this world? Because they created these curses to wipe out every race that refused to bow."
"We goblins mastered alchemy. We conquered time with the Time-Turner. We conquered space with the Vanishing Cabinet. We mastered everything..."
Pedro shrugged helplessly, puffing his cigar.
"...except death."
"So humans conquered us with these curses. Now we just mint coins."
Pedro sneered. "And then? They turned on each other. Wizards butchered wizards until their own power broke. They lost the strength to cast magic bare-handed and were forced to rely on wands, using spells that were mere shadows of the truth."
"Ancient wisdom is buried in books, and true magic is forgotten. Only the tools of murder remain sharp."
He jabbed his cigar at Anton. "That is why they are called Unforgivable. Because the wound is forever."
"You haven't seen St. Mungo's. It is full of people rotting alive, waiting for cures that will never come."
Anton listened silently. To him, it sounded like a weapon—powerful, permanent, and deadly. Like a high-caliber gun that left a hole you couldn't patch.
He said nothing, his gaze cold and steady.
When the goblin finished, Anton looked him dead in the eye. "You can fix him. So tell me what is the price?"
He had no intention of becoming this creature's pawn, just as he had been Fiennes's. If the demand was too high, he would blast his way out.
"Simple." Pedro snapped his fingers.
Machinery whirred, gears turned, and a tiny vial—no bigger than a finger—floated out from the walls. The liquid inside looked as plain as water.
"Put this in your master's drink."
Anton froze for a split second.
Put this in his drink?
But he quickly masked the shock, instead putting on a look of fierce loyalty. "No! I will not betray him!"
Deep down, he almost laughed. Betray him? Fiennes was already dead, killed by his own hand.
The goblin sneered. "Choose. Your master... or your uncle. Believe me, child, I am the only one in this world who can help him."
Anton fell silent. The truth finally clicked into place. Neville's parents. They were broken by this very curse, and the Order, Dumbledore, Hogwarts—none of them could bring them back. If they could, they would have.
He looked at Pedro, his eyes bloodshot and desperate, playing the part. "He is my beloved master! I owe him everything!"
Pedro smiled coldly. "You don't have a choice."