Anton finally understood the specific effects of the Soul Transference Curse.
As the spell was activated, he felt as if a huge hook had hooked his head, and he was rushed forward along the light emitted by the spell.
Then, like a fish out of water, he plunged back into the water, and the feeling of being pulled became lighter again.
After a moment of trance, he felt his body in shock.
A feeling of extreme old age and weakness came from deep within his body. He looked forward with difficulty and saw a young wizard standing before him.
It was him!
He had actually swapped bodies with the old wizard!
Only then did he fully see the body he had traveled to.
His hair was red, a lighter shade than the color of Ron's family he had seen in Diagon Alley today, with a platinum hue. His eyes were light blue, and his skin was fair.
Except for the lack of freckles, he looked a bit like Ron!
Relative?
Anton didn't know, but he finally understood why Ron had been staring at him.
Before he could take a closer look, a deep feeling of emptiness washed over him, as if a rubber band had been stretched to its limit and snapped back into his body.
When he opened his eyes again, the old wizard trotted over and poured a glass of fruit wine into his mouth.
His eyes were as if he were looking at a rare treasure. "Hahahaha, you will be my best apprentice. With such talent, you are truly invaluable."
What did "invaluable" mean?
At least the old wizard's attitude towards him was much better, even kindly inviting him to rest in a small bedroom on the first floor.
Besides taking back the old wand,
Anton slept for two full days before finally recovering.
A faint tingling sensation still lingered in his head, and he wondered if it was from unleashing magic beyond his capabilities.
He could feel his weakness and longed to return to bed for more sleep.
But he couldn't. He had been hungry for two days. If he didn't cook, he would starve to death.
The old wizard had clearly just returned from a trip, and the faint smell of lamb chops and beer lingered on him.
And Anton felt even hungrier.
Sighing, Anton thought, "Don't expect the old wizard to give him a good meal." He simply cooked a bowl of sliced noodles and ate it by the stove, sweating profusely.
As expected, sleep and food are the best ways for humans to recover.
Feeling much better, he had just left the kitchen when the sharp-eyed old wizard pulled him aside and started to sort through the herbs cluttering the corner.
"Only the leaves of the scurvy grass should be used. Be sure to pick them carefully, without even a trace of roots."
The old wizard's eyes gleamed with a playful glint. "Trust me, you don't want to die from a massive lack of blood after drinking the potion."
Anton was stunned. "Is this for me?"
"After you've picked them, mash them together with the spotted tiger grass and pour them into the fire lizard's blood. Once it boils, toss this leech in." The old wizard burped, stretched, and staggered, clutching the handrail of the stairs.
"Hurry up, damn it, you've already wasted two days of my time. If you're not in time by then, you'll be dead."
The old wizard muttered as he went upstairs.
Anton curled his lips. Wasn't it possible to make it himself if he was afraid of not being able to make it
in time? Was the potion he was mixing this time for himself? He felt terrified looking at the various ingredients.
There was even a cage of mice and several caterpillars in it.
This wasn't the first time he had drunk a potion. Once, Anton drank some strange, sticky potion that left him covered in blisters and he almost died of dehydration.
"You must be patient."
Anton took a deep breath. He couldn't panic, as panic would lead to mistakes.
This old wizard was no good. In just the past two months, he had killed seven or eight people right in front of him.
Would he kill him? There was no doubt about it. This dark wizard had killed more than one apprentice, and one of the times it was just because he was in a bad mood.
Putting on gloves, Anton silently pounded the herbs.
Bit by bit, he melded the fear and murderous intent within him into a paste, burying it deep within his heart.
The complexity of this potion was beyond Anton's imagination.
It involved the concoction of over thirty herbs, some of which had to be exposed to the sun, others burned to ash.
They also had to rest for one or three days.
The old wizard found a large metal cross and bound the middle-aged man with chains. "Tomorrow is the full moon night. You don't have much time."
These words were addressed not to the werewolf, but to Anton.
Anton lowered his head in silence, silently stirring the potion with his old wand. He could feel the magic power flowing through his wand and into the cauldron.
The dark green potion bubbled with sticky bubbles, and under the influence of the magic power, a faint red hue spread.
He maintained his magic output while contemplating the only spell he knew, the Soul Transference Charm.
He knew the incantations of several spells from novels, but he didn't know the gestures or the emotions they invoked.
Even whether every spell required emotion was a question.
So, could the Soul Transference Charm be used directly as an offensive tool?
He could strike the old wizard again, and the moment his soul transferred to his body, he could pick up the knife on the table and stab himself in the neck.
He wondered if this would result in his own death, while the old wizard entered his body and was reborn.
Anton's knowledge of spells was truly limited.
Finally, the potion was completely prepared.
Only a smear of transparent, light red liquid remained at the bottom of the pot, shimmering with dark green specks, a breathtaking sight.
"Haha!" The old wizard gazed at the potion and laughed.
"Such high quality must be concocted by someone with a heart filled with malice." His expression was half teasing, half joking.
"Only a person with such intense malice could achieve such perfect quality." The old wizard exclaimed in admiration, drawing his wand.
"So, what shall I reward you with?"
"Crucio!" The spell's light whirled through the air, instantly reaching Anton's chest.
He had no time to react.
Countless small knives cut madly inside his body.
Anton cried out in agony.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch..." He gripped the cracks in the floor, gritting his teeth to stifle another painful cry.
His gaze, fixed on the ground, grew icy cold.
"Expelliarmus!"
Anton's old wand flew into the old wizard's hands.
"You should learn to obey fate and be obedient."
The old wizard whistled, walked to his desk, sat down, and packed up his manuscripts into his suitcase.
He turned to the middle-aged man. "There's only one step left. Haha, my experiment is almost complete."
The middle-aged man sighed as he looked at Anton, who lay slumped on the ground. "You shouldn't do this to a child."
"Haha," the old wizard laughed. "How bizarre! I caught you just because you were about to attack the young wizard."
"No, I couldn't control myself after transforming into a werewolf. I mean no harm." Pain flickered in the middle-aged man's eyes. "I had locked myself up, but someone tampered with my door and opened it, letting me out to harm someone."
The old wizard whistled. "Excellent! You've touched me."
"I've decided to record your name in the experimental data as a reward for your contribution to this great experiment. What's your name?"
The middle-aged man chuckled to himself. "Moon Face."
"Great name." The old wizard smiled and picked up the quill.
Anton, who was twitching on the ground, his eyes lit up.
Moon Face?
Isn't that Lupin?
He's quite powerful. No one chosen by Dumbledore to join the Order of the Phoenix is simple.
So, he might need a wand!