The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Under Anthony's rough recollection, they finally managed to confirm Quirrell's tone and emotion at that time. By the time they agreed on the time for the next experiment, it was already time for lunch. Dumbledore happily accepted the invitation and walked with him into the Great Hall.

The auditorium was noisy. As they passed the Gryffindor table, they saw several students exchanging chocolate frog cards. One of them said very loudly: No, I don't need Dumbledore anymore!

Ouch, said Dumbledore.

It wasn't until he saw the horrified expressions of his classmates that the student realized who was probably standing behind him.

He turned around hastily, his eyes widened, and looked at the smiling Dumbledore for a while. Dumbledore waited with interest.

The student froze for a moment and explained incoherently: No, principal, it's just that you have too many... uh, I mean... you have too many chocolate frogs...

Dumbledore thought about it seriously and nodded: That's true. I really have a lot of chocolate frogs.

He bent down and studied the chocolate frog card over the students' heads. Dumbledore on the card winked at him, smiled and nodded, then suddenly turned around and disappeared.

…

Anthony opened the seat next to Professor Bubaji and sat down: Good afternoon, Caridi.

Good afternoon. Professor Bubaji said briskly, looking in a good mood. Today's stew is very good.

Oh, that's great, Anthony said, starting to add minced meat and grated carrots to his plate.

Professor Bubaji looked at him with a smile: I heard that your practical activities ended successfully?

Well... almost. Anthony said, I haven't written the report yet, but Minerva didn't rush me. I won't remind her if I don't know if she has forgotten.

Professor Bubaji nodded: Minerva has been very busy recently.

What is she busy with? Anthony asked curiously, putting a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

Professor Bubbaji told him in a low voice: The game is about to start, and Minerva is competing with Severus for the Quidditch training ground - don't ask her, she won't admit it.

Who won? Anthony asked.

I heard that the Gryffindor players complained that they are always training recently. Professor Boubaji replied, and then quickly changed the subject, By the way, do you know the new afternoon tea gathering place?

Anthony nodded: Second Greenhouse. He couldn't help but laugh again, Quirrell tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and you are now making me gradually doubt whether Professor Lockhart is trying to steal our worth of three kilos and seven nanometers. A unique printed teapot.”

Professor Bubbaji poked his head out and glanced at Lockhart (who was sitting next to Dumbledore and seemed to be trying to teach Dumbledore some experience in organizing a club), withdrew his gaze and whispered: You want to participate in the Lockdown Do you like the club, Henry?

No, Anthony said, Professor Snape and I have a 'very important' academic discussion, which happens to be scheduled from four to six in the afternoon.

Professor Boubaji said tacitly: I happened to be going to the Ministry of Magic at that time.

They nodded regretfully, thinking that it was really unfortunate that the professors had been so busy recently.

…

While Lockhart was instructing Dumbledore on how to improve the Albacore Club, the other professors exchanged glances and enjoyed a wonderful lunch together. Professor Sprout passed behind Professor Bubaji and Anthony, put his hands on their shoulders with a smile, and winked in the direction of the greenhouse outside the door.

See you later. Professor Bubaji nodded.

I'm afraid I can't go today. Anthony said, I'm planning to go back to the office to write a summary report on practical activities.

Professor McGonagall turned her head and said across Professor Bubbaji's seat: That's right, Henry, I'm about to remind you. I'm still waiting for them.

Minerva, it's Sunday! Professor Flitwick protested shrilly. It's time for rest.

Professor McGonagall reminded: But, Filius, you will have to discuss spells and magic principles with the graduates in a while, and you will lose track of time in the discussion.

Oh, yes, yes, said Professor Flitwick.

Anthony asked: What do you want to do later, Minerva?

I want to review your practical activity report. Professor McGonagall said.

Anthony looked at her.

At least give me a summary of the second set of practical activities last semester. Professor McGonagall compromised. If I remember correctly, you told me you had finished writing before the holiday last semester.

…

After returning to the office and handing the summary report of the trip to the Botanical Garden to Professor McGonagall, Anthony wrote a few lines of summary of the zoo on the spread lesson plan. He still couldn't hold back his curiosity and decided to go to the entrance of the staff lounge.

Most of the students returned to the comfort of their lounges, but Anthony still encountered quite a few students who greeted him in the hallways. As he passed a corner of the stairs, a group of students ran past him like a gust of wind. Anthony stopped in confusion and looked behind them.

Make way, make way! Fred and George shouted, one after another, sliding down the stair railing, Good afternoon, Professor Anthony!

Anthony and the other students quickly stepped aside and watched as they passed by, with colorful things in their pockets - a snake's head was exposed, shaking with their movements, spitting out letters from time to time.

The next second, a plush gray figure ran past Anthony's feet. Followed closely behind him was Filch, panting and furious, gritting his teeth and shouting: Once I catch you -

The onlookers left in a hurry. Anthony was trapped in the crowd, and it took some effort to break free. By the time he returned to the neighborhood, Filch was already chasing Peeves.

…

Just as Professor Sprout told him, there were two gargoyles standing at the door of the staff room. To his surprise, there were two students standing at the door of the lounge: Roger Davis and his roommate, Emery Sheen.

Why are you talking? Emery asked, holding a notebook in his hand.

Because we have a beautiful mouth. replied a stone monster.

Another stone beast said, Why do you want to talk to us, Happy Jim?

Because I have some questions, Emery said, Why doesn't the gargoyle in front of Professor Dumbledore's office speak?

Oh, are you asking us? the stone beast snorted, When you become a gargoyle, you will know that not all stone beasts know each other.

Roger followed its answer and asked, What does it feel like to be a gargoyle?

Hmm... said the other stone beast, I feel my butt is cold.

Anthony came over and looked at the two talkative gargoyles. He saw words such as Roger the Old Snake, Speaking, Parseltongue and Alchemy written messily on Emery's notebook.

If it's not offensive, can I know where you are from? Anthony asked curiously. Roger and Emery were startled and looked back at him.

The stone beast glanced at him, and after realizing that he was a professor, his tone became much kinder.

Professor Lockhart moved us out, they told him. He rescued us from that cluttered room.

A room full of clutter? Emery said.

Anthony said thoughtfully: The room where the house elves keep their miscellaneous items?

The Stone Beast reluctantly replied, I think so, Professor.

The Room of Requirement, Roger whispered to Emery, Fred and George mentioned that it was originally the elf's room.

…

Worried that Lockhart would come to the staff lounge early to admire his decoration, Anthony opened the door slightly and took a look before leaving. Even with just a brief glance, he understood why the professors had decided to change the venue for afternoon tea.

Gold powder and confetti were flying in the lounge, and gold stars and pink hearts were plastered all over the walls. There was a huge void in the middle with the words Lockhart taught me to do this written on the top. The front door of the snack cabinet was filled with balloons. Where the Care of Magical Zoology books were originally placed, there was now a stack of new books neatly stacked.

Just by looking at the familiar cover, Anthony could recognize it as Lockhart's autobiography, The Magical Me. There is also a huge stand beside this pile of books, with a promotional poster hanging on it: New book in preparation: Happy Hogwarts. The surprise of the Lock Your Heart Club: You will be killed by Gilderoy Lockhart in his new book!

Anthony closed the door gently.

The back of my head is itchy. The gargoyle said muffledly next to him.

Oh, I'm sorry, Anthony helped him dust away the floating paper, Are you feeling better now?

much better.

…

To avoid running into Lockhart in the corridor, Anthony knocked on Snape's office door half an hour early.

Snape looked unkind, but he seemed to have thought of the scene in the staff lounge, and nodded politely towards Anthony. Even though it was late October, the fireplace in Snape's gloomy office was still empty, as if he was some kind of dark creature that couldn't feel the cold.

Find yourself a chair, Anthony. Snape said a little impatiently, walking around Anthony who was standing in front of the fireplace, and returned to the cauldron with silvery white steam. Are you still waiting for me to take out the butter biscuits? And black tea for you?

If anything, I won't refuse, Anthony said, sitting down in his chair.

Using the flickering flames under the cauldron, he looked around Snape's office and found, somewhat amusedly, that nothing had changed. Snape basically restored the office exactly as it was before he smashed things, even retaining some of the uncomfortable springs in the chair under him.

Snape snorted and didn't answer. Anthony turned his head in surprise and found that Snape in front of the cauldron was in a happy mood.

What happened? Anthony asked.

Snape didn't give him a look. In fact, he seemed determined to completely ignore Anthony for the first half hour. Anthony took this well, for he called for Coco and asked him to bring him quite a few butter biscuits and black tea.

Half an hour later, Snape extinguished the flame, lit the candle, and while the viscous silver liquid in the cauldron was still gurgling slightly, poured it all into the crystal bottle.

Anthony ate the cookie and looked at it curiously.

Did you succeed? he asked. The liquid in the bottle looks very, very much like unicorn blood.

Snape brought the bottle close to the candle and looked at it carefully in the light of the fire, his aquiline nose almost touching the crystal bottle. Suddenly, the silvery white liquid turned milky white, and then immediately turned lifeless white.

Snape raised his eyebrows, put down the bottle, and sat across from Anthony.

If you remember - Snape said dryly, I mentioned that the efficacy of unicorn blood seems to be inseparable from its curse.

Yes. Anthony put down the cookie, But I don't know how you came to this conclusion.

There, Snape tilted his head towards the white crystal bottle, is the closest I have come to a successful attempt. Under the high temperature - it can burn anyone who tries to drink it to death. Conditions - it can barely maintain the efficacy of unicorn blood. Once the temperature becomes tolerable, the life-sustaining effect quickly fades.

Anthony nodded: But I thought - I don't know - magical medicine could treat burns very easily?

Snape snorted impatiently from his nose and seemed to barely swallow a taunt.

Potion burns, Anthony, he said shortly.

Okay, Anthony said, still not sure how he could help. He reached for the crystal vial and looked at Snape inquiringly. Snape's expression was not very good, but he said nothing. Anthony assumed that he acquiesced and picked up the potion to look at it.

I want to try necromancy on it, he warned Snape.

Snape's face seemed to paler. He stared at the crystal bottle with a heavy gaze.

Anthony put his hand against the wall of the bottle, closed his eyes and felt it for a while. There were some easily accessible corpses on the shelves next to him, and many of them even contained magic. He could control them easily. But he couldn't feel anything in the bottle responding to him.

He asked: Well...has anything changed?

Of course, Anthony, said Snape, I saw the ghost of the crystal bottle.

Anthony sighed and decided to try again, with more concentration.

The bodies on the side... No, don't think about them, focus on what's in front... In front... Is that the aroma of butter biscuits and black tea, or something else? Is this what the potion smells like?

Anthony suddenly knew what it was.

His eyes shot open and he gasped. Snape was sitting opposite him, looking at the potion bottle thoughtfully, unaware that the undead magic was carefully coveting his soul just now.

The practice of necromancy in the Room of Requirement finally paid off. Anthony met Snape's somewhat impatient look, happily put down the potion bottle, and announced: No, I can't feel anything in it that can respond to the undead magic. You stewed them too much.

He felt sane and delighted in it.