Returning to the shack to clean up the experimental bench messed up by Draco and his friends, Anton slapped an extremely long list onto his lovely roommate and perfectly secured a sum of money.
Although his little piggy bank was already filled to the brim by Mr. Rosier.
But this was different.
Anton had to be considerate of the twins' feelings. If he took out too much gold for no reason, the Weasley shack would completely become his, and the twin brothers would be reduced to mere employees.
This would only sour their relationship and was not a wise move.
He didn't have a great desire for money and valued his relationship with these two cousins he got along with more.
Draco's money was a nice boost for the Weasley shack, and the twins could finally conduct their research under more ample conditions.
To be precise, it was research for the three of them.
Anton could always find a new path and propose solutions no one else had thought of whenever their research hit a snag.
The twins felt as if they had found one of their own. "We really are brothers!"
And so, under the guidance of these two older cousins, Anton also began to explore a brand new field—the art of crafting magical items.
See, having two brothers like them isn't so bad, right?
Oh, sometimes he also had to look after the feelings of his younger cousin, Ron.
"Just like that, she waved her wand, the feather floated up gently, and she gave me this arrogant look." Ron was clearly in a bad mood, chugging his fruit juice angrily. "No wonder no one can stand her."
Anton picked up a fried chicken leg from the long table, dipped it in ketchup, and took a hearty bite. Steam rose from the crispy skin.
"So, you made her angry again?"
"What do you mean, again?" Ron's eyes widened.
Harry, sitting beside them, looked a little worried. "I just saw her crying. Maybe we shouldn't have said that about her."
"So what!" Ron hesitated for a moment, a little uneasy, but still insisted stubbornly, "She must have noticed by now, she doesn't have a single friend!"
"Mmm~~" Anton took another forceful bite of the fried chicken leg. He had to admit, the cooking skills of the Hogwarts house-elves were absolutely top-tier. Delicious!
He gently placed the chicken bone on his plate and wiped his hands with a napkin. "You're wrong about that. She has friends."
Ron and Harry both looked over.
"Bloody hell, I've never seen any!" Ron's eyes widened.
Harry thought for a moment and nodded vigorously in agreement.
Anton looked at them helplessly. "It's you two, but now the ship of your friendship has capsized, so she really doesn't have any friends anymore."
"..." Ron and Harry looked at each other, speechless.
"I'm off to class. It's Charms this afternoon, and I happen to have a lot of questions to ask. See you at the feast tonight."
Today was the day before Halloween.
There would be a pre-Halloween feast in the evening, and the Great Hall was decorated colorfully everywhere.
Jack-o'-lanterns floated above in the hall, which seemed to have no ceiling.
The food was more lavish than usual, and the plating was even more exquisite.
Then Professor Quirrell ran in frantically, saying to Dumbledore, "Troll... in the dungeons... thought you ought to know."
Thump.
He fainted pathetically on the floor.
A troll was no ordinary creature. It would be strange if Professor Quirrell had just randomly found some piece of junk to fob off Dumbledore's task of guarding the Philosopher's Stone.
According to the Ministry of Magic's classification, trolls are XXXXX-level dangerous magical creatures. In the same category are Dumbledore's phoenix, Newt's Occamy, the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, the Demiguise that most wizards can't even see (the old monkey from Fantastic Beasts 2), the Hippogriff, and so on.
Thick skin, tough flesh, high resistance to spells, and extremely destructive!
Magical creatures were introduced in the first-year curriculum, so everyone knew how terrifying this thing was.
Instantly, all the students screamed in panic and ran around in chaos.
"Everyone, silence!"
A majestic and deep voice rang in everyone's ears.
Dumbledore looked at everyone sternly. "Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
After giving the order, he left with the professors to search the castle.
Snape stared at it all, then turned and left through a back door.
Harry Potter stared intently at Snape's back, then turned to tell Ron that Hermione didn't know about the troll. The two brave Gryffindors began their daring adventure to find their friend.
It was all like a silent play.
Unfolding before Anton's eyes like a fleeting shadow.
His heart was completely unmoved.
A troll?
If a magical creature like that could really be knocked out by Ron with a club using the Levitation Charm, then he'd be damned.
Try having Ron knock out a Hippogriff or a phoenix of the same level.
If Dumbledore wasn't behind this, Anton would eat his own brain on the spot!
"Heh heh~"
"Good luck!"
He started walking out with the crowd.
Just then, a voice with an elegant tone sounded in his ear.
"You're very cold-blooded."
"!!!" As if hit by a Petrification Charm, Anton slowly turned around to look at Professor Quirrell.
Isn't your part in the Great Hall over?
You should be rushing to find the Philosopher's Stone right now, then coming back quickly to put on an act.
Why are you chatting with me?
"I like it very much." The corner of Professor Quirrell's mouth twitched up slightly. He had, at some point, climbed onto a chair by the long table and was now sitting properly, staring at Anton with cold, mocking eyes.
Tap.
His hand rested lightly on Anton's shoulder.
"Quirrell is an idiot. I need someone smart and clever to help him. You will, won't you, my dear student?" Quirrell looked at Anton, licking the corner of his mouth.
"But the Headmaster just told us to go back to our dormitories." The well-behaved little wizard was clearly afraid of the Headmaster.
Professor Quirrell stared at him, the hand on his shoulder squeezing gently. "Don't disappoint me."
Alright, old Voldy, you win.
Professor Quirrell reverted to his timid, panicked appearance, looking at his own hand grabbing Anton's shoulder with some surprise.
Sigh.
Anton took the opportunity to help Professor Quirrell up. "Let me walk you back to your office."
"That would be wonderful." Quirrell nodded.
Once they were out of the crowd's sight, Professor Quirrell drew his wand and waved it gently. Anton could feel a gust of wind wrap around his body.
Even simple walking became much faster.
Professor Quirrell gave Anton a deep look. "Let's hurry."
He led the way towards the castle stairs.
Anton squinted at Quirrell's back. He had actually always had a contingency plan: if Voldemort made a move on him, with his understanding of soul fine-tuning, he might be able to try and lock Voldemort permanently inside Quirrell's body.
This idea had been itching in his mind for a long time.
But now...
He touched the spell bracelet on his wrist and pursed his lips.
They quickly arrived at the fourth-floor corridor.
Quirrell gripped his wand nervously, glanced at Anton hiding far away around a corner, and sneered. The master said this little wizard would be useful, heh, still just a coward!
He, Quirinus Quirrell, would obtain the Philosopher's Stone tonight!
He would resurrect the Dark Lord tonight!
He would be the greatest contributor!
Filled with longing for a better life, he forcefully threw open the door to where the Philosopher's Stone was kept.
"Sectumsempra!"
A spell shot out swiftly from another corner