The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

When we returned to the castle, it was already dinner time. Hagrid and Fang went back to their cabin (Next time, Henry, next time we'll go to the bookstore!), while Anthony trudged to the hall for dinner.

What made him feel bad was not only the death of the unicorn, but also the identification of the Acromantula... The murderer was a human, which meant that either a dangerous person had sneaked into Hogwarts, or that this person was him students and colleagues.

No matter what it is, it means that someone is coming to disturb the stable life in school that he has finally adapted to and likes.

The hall is filled with warm aroma. Potatoes and fried sausages were piled high on a silver plate, decorated with violets sprinkled with icing sugar. The weather is getting warmer, and even the students who don’t like vegetables are willing to take a spoonful of salad mixed in crystal clear bowls. Glass shelves containing small cakes were stacked on top of each other, next to a large bowl of steaming chocolate ice cream.

Anthony passed the house hourglass of the four houses - great, not much changed - past students animatedly discussing the recent British Quidditch League (Puddlemere has the best chasers in the world ! yelled a Gryffindor, nearly throwing salad dressing at Anthony), stopping two careless buyers from trading History of Magic papers in front of the professor and witnessing a prank.

Be careful, Mr. Thomas. Anthony reminded kindly. He was very lucky to see one of the Weasley brothers smiling as he picked up the teapot and poured some water for Thomas.

Professor Anthony? Thomas raised his head in surprise, looked at Anthony next to him, and then at the staff seat, You... cough cough cough...

He choked on a mouthful of bacon and his face turned red. He absentmindedly grabbed the teacup at hand and raised it to his mouth——

No, wait...

Under the expectant eyes of the onlookers, the teacup immediately bit Thomas's nose unceremoniously.

Oh! Thomas pulled the handle of the teacup and stretched his nose, Fred! George!

The Weasley twins were watching him with interest in the crowd.

Here it is, Fred said cheerfully.

What do you want us to do? George looked around, Oh, Alfie, your nose ornament is really special.

He reached out and scratched the bottom of the tea cup. The teacup immediately let go of Thomas's nose, fell on the table and rolled around twice, shrinking back from being ticklish.

Thomas picked up the teacup, turned it over, looked at it, and said angrily: Yeah, look carefully, isn't this Zuko's symbol? He rubbed his nose, which was now bright red, This is so scary It’s really strict!”

You shouldn't pull it. The classmate next to him said, and he also came over to look at the cup, I said, this is really good!

Looking at his sparkling eyes, Anthony expected that he would encounter a lot of students with red noses in the corridors in the next few weeks.

That's why I told you to be careful, Mr. Thomas, he said, unable to help but smile too.

…

Because most of the professors had gone to attend Professor McGonagall's report dinner, the faculty bench was empty. Dumbledore was as busy as ever, and his seat stood in the middle like a monument. Across the high chair belonging to Professor Flitwick, the administrator Argus Filch sat in his seat sadly, nodding towards Anthony from a distance. Mrs. Norris sat at his feet, her eyes following several owls that flew in, meowing longingly.

Anthony thought about it and sat down next to Filch with his plate. Filch was startled. The thick-knuckled hand holding the fork trembled, and the dinner plate groaned harshly.

Good evening, Professor Anthony, Filch said. He bulged his eyes like lightbulbs in a panic, and glanced at Anthony suspiciously.

Anthony nodded: Good evening, Mr. Filch.

What is that? Filch asked happily, nodding curtly towards the noisy Gryffindor table. There was gleeful malice in his tone.

Anthony said perfunctorily: Nothing.

He had seen it, and it was not something dangerous, and it was not worth throwing a few people away to clean the toilet. Even though everyone had told him before class that the Weasley twins were quite troublesome, through spending time together this school year - and, of course, some correspondence with Mr. Weasley - Anthony had learned a lot about the brothers. confidence.

On the other hand, he and Filch had always had some... ha, differences in educational philosophies, and both of them were well aware of this. They had not communicated since Anthony politely interrupted Filch's spiel about Muggle torture.

Their cats are not easy to deal with either.

Once, while walking with the cat, Anthony met Mrs. Norris. The gray-haired thing arched its body, lowered its tail, and the fur all over its body stood on end. The ginger cat arrogantly rubbed against Anthony's calf. When Anthony bent down to scratch his head, he narrowed his eyes comfortably and watched indifferently as Mrs. Norris ran away against the wall.

But Anthony didn't sit here today just to cause Filch trouble. They were far from hating each other, and there was no need to display the distance between them with a long table.

Anthony took the initiative and chose a relatively safe topic: Today's fried sausage is a little burnt than usual, isn't it?

Filch frowned and said cautiously, Quite right, Professor.

I didn't expect so many people to listen to Minerva's report. Anthony said, watching the students below waving roasted lamb ribs in a duel gesture.

Filch's cheeks twitched with a terrifying expression as he stared at the students who had become bolder because of the professor's departure. Right under their noses, a junior Ravenclaw was piercing a fried sausage with a fork, using its slightly yellowed and crispy end to point it at the cherry cake in front of him, waving it: Yuga-Dimlviosa.

His mouth widened in surprise when the cake actually floated, and he could almost stuff the delicate little cake in front of him in one bite.

The classmate sitting next to him stared at the beautiful achievement of the kitchen elf swinging in mid-air, then looked at the mountain of fried sausages in front of him, and cautiously forked one.

Anthony stared blankly at the lettuce and bacon on his plate, pretending that everyone should hold their wand with their right hand under the table while eating.

While the student was chanting the spell, he couldn't help but take out his wand, pointed it at the cake from under the staff chair, and whispered the levitating spell in a low voice.

Filch twitched his nose and twisted the corners of his mouth to remind him: Professor Anthony, magic is not allowed in the castle halls and corridors.

I'm sorry. Anthony said, controlling the cake to gently fall onto the student's plate, then neatly retracted the wand and began to concentrate on cutting the bacon.

At this time, everyone on the Ravenclaw table already had a fried sausage.