Chapter 114 A Good Start
"I told him I would help him find out when you'll put the Sorcerer's Stone in the mirror, and he agreed."
Anton grabbed a Chocolate Frog and stuffed it into his mouth, then grabbed a few Cockroach Clusters and quickly stuffed them in as well.
A glass of honey lemon water was gently pushed in front of Anton, "Eat slower."
"Thanks. Gulp, gulp, gulp." Anton downed the entire glass of honey water in one go and slumped into the large high-backed chair, "So comfortable~"
"Chocolate is simply magical, how did wizards discover this thing, that it can alleviate the negative effects of magic."
Dumbledore rubbed the ring on his finger, squinting his eyes and saying casually, "That I don't know, I don't know everything."
Anton grinned and grabbed another Chocolate Frog, "So now we're back to maintaining a delicate balance again, I'm very familiar with this kind of thing, easy to handle."
"Is that so?"
Dumbledore looked at Anton with a complicated expression, "You've always lived like this?"
Anton was about to stuff the Chocolate Frog into his mouth, but he paused at this question, and the Chocolate Frog's hind legs kicked him on the nose.
He thought for a moment, feeling a bit emotional, "always."
That's right, it seemed he had always lived in this kind of situation. Shrugging, Anton smiled nonchalantly, "I'm used to it."
He forcefully stuffed the Chocolate Frog into his mouth and chewed hard.
Then he rubbed his hands together, "Could you get me a piece of cake or something, I feel a bit hungry."
Old Dumbledore clapped his hands lightly, and a stack of pastries with scoops of ice cream appeared, gently piling up and placed in front of Anton, "Treacle tart, my favorite, try it."
Anton ate, then looked up again, "So when you plan to put the Sorcerer's Stone in the mirror, remember to tell me, I have to keep my word and tell my good teacher."
He looked at Old Dumbledore with a smile, "That way he can go in at the time you set, at the place you set, obediently. After that, it's your business, I can't control it anymore."
Dumbledore shook his head with a complicated expression, "You're still just a first-year child, you shouldn't have to bear so much."
Anton shrugged and continued to tackle the tart.
Isn't Harry Potter also a first-year, and Old Dumbledore plans to let this kid face Voldemort directly, it's simply terrifying.
"Oh, he's different," Dumbledore said with a smile, his glasses full of light.
"!!!" Anton looked up in surprise.
"Legilimency? Wow, Dumbledore, you're much better than my professor, he can't even see through the first layer of code in my memory."
Dumbledore spread his hands, "You're not the only one who learns from goblins."
That's true.
Old Dumbledore is much more capable, he knows everything, the language of centaurs, the language of merpeople, the language of goblins, the language of snakes...
Obviously, in Dumbledore's long life, he must have communicated with all sorts of creatures.
After eating the whole treacle tart, Anton patted his stomach comfortably.
"Then I'm off to class, Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore nodded without speaking, who knows what he was thinking.
...
...
Anton walked with a light step, just as he himself said, as long as he could maintain a delicate balance, he could handle this kind of thing.
Not just Voldemort.
But also Dumbledore.
He had long been accustomed to getting along with people much stronger than himself, and he had his own way of doing things.
For example, Legilimency.
Just now, he didn't try to dress up or package his thoughts.
He laid them bare, very frankly under Dumbledore's eyes.
Such frankness was also a silent bargaining chip, for which he gained the goodwill of Dumbledore and Voldemort.
Illusion and reality, reality and illusion, this feeling of dancing on a knife's edge was all too familiar.
His strength was not yet great.
But he was gradually acquiring some means to secure his place.
...
Today was Herbology class, held in the greenhouses outside the castle.
Walking out of Dumbledore's office, he slowly descended the stone steps one by one and came to the outside of the castle.
Unconsciously, time had quietly entered November, and the weather had become very cold. Snowflakes began to drift over the castle, and the surrounding mountains were a vast expanse of gray, covered in ice and snow.
On the way from the castle to the greenhouses, both Gryffindors and Slytherins were discussing one thing—the Quidditch season.
This was related to the ranking for the House Cup.
Anton walked among the crowd, listening to them argue about which house would win, how amazing that player was, and smiled faintly.
He gently exhaled, watching it turn into a puff of white mist in mid-air.
"But..."
Anton squinted, turning his head to look at the castle, it was unclear whether he was looking in the direction of Quirrell's office or Dumbledore's office.
"I don't want to be the weak one anymore."
All this time, he had used all sorts of means to survive, and it was tiring enough.
Doing things that wronged himself wasn't something that could be calmed just by saying "I'm used to it."
Now there was a good start.
The goblin's memory organization method, the bionic spell's color-changing wind bird, and leveraging Dumbledore's influence, gave him room to negotiate with Voldemort.
The secret art of the goblin memory collector, a candid mind, and leveraging Voldemort's influence, earned him extra attention from Dumbledore.
Everything had entered a very delicate balance.
Even if there were some dangers, it was actually enough for him to properly learn a skill, a skill that would at least allow him to stand easily before these two.
"A special soul?"
Anton smiled slightly, an idea forming in his mind.
One must be good at using one's advantages, this was a truth he had long understood.
Hugging his books tightly, he strode forward.
...
For the average student, Hogwarts was magical, wonderful, leisurely, and full of fun.
But for some people, the experience of studying was comparable to a horror-themed escape game.
For example, the trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione walking ahead, they were whispering with their heads down, occasionally looking around cautiously at their classmates.
Seeing their cautious appearance, a wave of kinship washed over Anton.
He walked over and gently put his arm around Ron's neck, "Hey, little cousin, what are you talking about?"
Ron quickly exchanged a look with Harry, Harry shook his head nervously, and Ron pursed his lips and nodded.
Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at Anton, "Do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?"
"Hermione!" Harry and Ron exclaimed at the same time.
"Of course I know." The corner of Anton's mouth lifted slightly.
"The famous Nicolas Flamel in the wizarding world, the number of people who know him is no less than those who know Dumbledore."
"!!!"
"!!!"
"!!!"
The three of them quickly looked at Anton, asking in a nervous chorus, "Who is he?"
Anton smiled.
Smiled.
Grinned.
And then laughed with particular delight.
"Read more books, you foolish little cousin, you've eaten all those Chocolate Frogs for nothing."
Ruffling Ron's hair, Anton laughed heartily and left.
Wow, seeing others troubled too, for some reason his mood was exceptionally good now, awesome.
"???" Ron stared wide-eyed at Anton's back, "So he just showed off his knowledge, then fiercely mocked us, and in the end said nothing at all?"
Hermione's expression was odd, "He only mocked you!"
Harry nodded.
"Damn it!" Ron straightened his hair, "I hate Slytherins!"
Harry sighed helplessly, "Hagrid knows, but he won't say. Anton knows, and he won't say either. We've looked through so many books, we don't know what to do."
"We have no idea what Snape is trying to steal from that room guarded by the three-headed dog!"
Rustle.
A long list was shaken in front of him.
Hermione stared at the two useless men, "Listen, we haven't looked through that many books, it's only a small half of the list, we'll continue to the library after class!"
Harry and Ron looked at each other and sighed in unison, "I hate the library."