Anton had Lupin help him purchase a large number of items from Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and the Muggle world, which were packed into a trunk with an Undetectable Extension Charm and sent here via several owl post deliveries.
Several hundred thick wooden planks of varying lengths could be easily assembled with screws into shelves, experiment workbenches, chairs, and even a sofa that could be pulled out into a bed.
George and Fred were very interested in this, pulling out the assembly diagrams from inside to help put them together.
Anton picked up a wooden stick, one of the support legs for a table. The material was very solid, the workmanship fine, with a sense of design in its subtle curves, and a faint numerical code branded in the top corner.
Of course, that wasn't the key point. The key was the logo above the number—a wolf's head.
Beneath it, branded in English: Wolfman Home.
In his letter, Lupin mentioned that the simple assembly furniture Anton designed was very interesting, not only convenient for transport but also for on-site installation. Yes, he had started another furniture company, not for profit, but to give those desperate werewolves a way to live.
It was a very magical thing; after Anton arrived here, many things had changed because of his presence.
But after these changes, he himself had also changed, which gave him a different perspective.
According to the letter, it was Mr. Rosier's suggestion to Lupin to start a company for the werewolves.
It was a case of the capable helping the world, bringing joy to all the poor scholars under heaven.
Anton remembered that in the original story, Lupin was very busy in the later stages, acting as a mediator for the Order of the Phoenix and going undercover in the werewolf tribes. But now...
Dumbledore: Lupin, my dear boy, could you work a little harder and go undercover in the werewolf tribes?
Lupin: I'm afraid not. Most of the werewolves are my subordinates now. Fenrir Greyback only has two or three werewolves left with him, so I can't really go undercover.
Dumbledore: ...
Ugh, Anton shook his head, trying to banish the strange image from his mind.
Wizarding-side experiments weren't too particular about environmental interference. Much like Chinese cooking, many potion recipes specified 'a moderate amount,' and how much to add depended entirely on the mood of the person brewing the potion. Emotion was the key to a potion's success or failure.
tThe ultimate effect of the old wizard's saying 'a wizard is a god' was to pick up a cup of water, shake it, and have it become a magical potion, containing only two things: water and the wizard's will.
Of course, this was just a conjecture.
This kind of natural solid wood workbench was more suitable for operations than cold iron or stone slabs, as it could invisibly increase the success rate.
And so, the experiments could continue.
Two vials of blood from Lupin in his two different states were delivered, and data slowly filled the trunk. Anton's life returned to its busy rhythm.
Attending classes, eating, borrowing books from the library, researching in the lab, sleeping. It was dreadfully dull, yet he enjoyed it immensely.
Immersed in the beauty of magic, he felt happy every single moment.
Even in Flying class.
Madam Hooch was indeed a very skilled flyer. The flying techniques she explained were extremely advanced. With mastery, one could even fly rapidly through a forest without fear of hitting trees, a truly god-like skill.
Snape's Potions class was also very interesting. Although not as in-depth as the advanced theories he explained privately on Saturdays, it helped build a solid foundation. He could make even a simple potion ingredient sound fascinating.
Astronomy, Herbology, History of Magic, Charms, Transfiguration—each one was dazzling.
Even Professor Quirrell, who had Voldemort stewing on the back of his head, this stuttering fellow who seemed to be the comic relief, had an extremely solid theoretical knowledge if you listened patiently.
Today, he was teaching the 'Scarecrow Curse'.
It was a spell that could turn a person into a scarecrow.
Professor Quirrell said it was a spell wizards used to scare Muggles, which made both the Slytherins and Gryffindors in the class lose interest.
Except for Hermione, who raised her hand to ask a question because she hadn't heard clearly due to Harry and Ron's secret chatting, almost no one was willing to listen.
Except for one person.
Anton.
Yes, him again.
In his view, the Scarecrow Curse was simply magical.
You see, the previous class was Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration. This kind of systematic spell, which could be studied in great depth, was not easy to learn. Even many upper-year students could only manage to turn a rabbit into a tea set.
But turning oneself into a scarecrow? Heh, dream on.
The students were unwilling to listen, messing around and playing in a chaotic mess. The stuttering Professor Quirrell looked timid and hesitant, just nervously glancing at his book before starting to read its contents aloud.
Anton frowned, looking at the few scribbled notes on his paper, then at the ridiculously thick turban on Professor Quirrell's head.
He had a great interest in any human transfiguration spells.
Not just for researching a cure for Lupin, Anna, and the others; he was genuinely interested and skilled in it himself.
This was his tireless research topic, and the spell before him was clearly from a completely different system than what he had learned, offering significant reference value.
But...
The thought of old Voldy hiding inside Quirrell made him very reluctant to attract his attention.
After struggling with this for about ten minutes, Pansy said something that made Draco giggle, and the sound irritated him even more.
Finally, he made up his mind.
After all, this was Hogwarts, and this Defense Against the Dark Arts class was the one old Voldy had always longed for. Besides, he wasn't Harry Potter.
Yes, although he didn't know why both Voldemort and Snape, who were skilled in the Dark Arts, would be so eager to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Had their brains gone soft?
Voldemort even cast a high-level curse on the position that even Dumbledore couldn't break, just because he couldn't become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Tsk tsk tsk.
Anton gently patted Draco's shoulder, "Get the students to quiet down. We need to learn to respect the professor, especially those Gryffindors. They're just awful."
He always knew how to say just the right thing to this arrogant guy.
Oh ho, Draco loved hearing that. He turned to give orders to Goyle and the others. After a brief commotion, the classroom quieted down.
Of course, the tension between the two houses seemed to have intensified a little.
Anton, on the other hand, grabbed his notebook and books and scurried to the front row.
It was very empty here. No one liked Professor Quirrell's class. Even Hermione, who was studious, didn't like being so close to this ridiculous, garlic-smelling professor.
Professor Quirrell was clearly a bit flustered by Anton's approach, looking somewhat startled and becoming quite agitated.
"Th-this... st-student, you... you..."
Anton nodded with a smile, "Hello, Professor Quirrell."
Quirrell swallowed and nodded.
"The Scarecrow Curse you just mentioned, is it a type of Transfiguration?"
"And the incantation you just mentioned, although it's from the Latin system, the intonation sounds very much like Runic. Is this an ancient spell?"
Clearly, this was a student who had been listening to his lecture. Quirrell smiled in gratification.