The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Chapter 352 Tomatoes and the Staff Lounge

After saying goodbye to Pansy, Tracy quietly approached the corner of the stairs where Anthony and the ghost mouse were, still holding her wand. She looked around the place where the tomato disappeared vigilantly, but obviously found nothing. Finally, she lowered her wand, raised her head, hesitated slightly, and continued to walk upstairs.

Anthony watched her disappear around the corner of the stairs, reached out to open his pocket, lowered his head and asked the mouse: "What do you think?"

The mouse had already bitten off the stem of the tomato and was gnawing at the flesh with difficulty and satisfaction. It raised its head and looked at Anthony with its pair of bright little eyes.

The juice of the tomato had soaked his pocket. Anthony pressed the mouse's head back onto the tomato with a hint of blame and quietly walked out of the corner.

Pansy was anxiously holding her wand, pointing at her tightly pressed legs, and whispering the breaking spell. But her voice was hurried and trembling, either she made the wrong emphasis or she forgot to shake the wand quickly while reciting the spell. Several cursed tomatoes were still jumping around her, making all kinds of noises.

"Legstand - legstand - stop, you damned things!" Pansy cursed under her breath and tried hard, her poodle-like face wrinkled together. (Note 1)

Suddenly, she raised her head and looked at the end of the corridor. A pair of lightbulb-like eyes were shining not far away. Mrs. Norris stood there, panting, and her tangled hair looked like a bunch of dry bushes under the lightning. She stared at the tomatoes that were still singing and dancing, and howled loudly.

"Shut up, old beast!" Pansy growled, "Stand up on your legs! Stand up on your legs - damn it!" She seemed to have given up the idea of ​​casting a spell and instead hopped like a rabbit, holding onto the wall with her hands, and jumped towards the stairs with all her might, making a louder noise than the tomatoes and Mrs. Norris.

Anthony raised his wand and cast a counter-charm at her. Her legs suddenly spread apart and she fell down a few steps - Anthony quickly trotted towards her - but Pansy had already grabbed the banister and stood up. Mrs. Norris rushed to the stairs, but stopped suddenly just before she collided with Anthony, and slowly retreated back into the corridor with her back hunched.

"Davis?" Anthony heard Pansy whisper. "What are you doing?"

Mrs. Norris continued to howl hoarsely in the corridor. Pansy glanced in its direction and hurried down the stairs, probably to return to the cellar at last.

"What's the matter, dear? What have you found?" Filch's voice came from the end of the corridor. "Let me see...oh." His tone was a mixture of disappointment and anger. "Tomatoes. This is the fourth time tonight, dear. Wait until I catch the mischievous student... wait until I catch that person..."

Mrs. Norris was still shouting, staring in Anthony's direction.

"What?" Filch glanced suspiciously at the stairs (Anthony shrank back into the shadows guiltily), picked up Mrs. Norris again, and while holding up the lantern to examine the wall, he said absentmindedly, "There, there, dear. I know we'll make that guy pay..."

While he was muttering, Anthony left quickly.

……

"Do you think they're done fighting?" Anthony asked the mouse. "I mean, the cat and the chicken?"

He was squatting in front of a low bookshelf in the staff room, studying the books on it, while the evil rat was still nibbling the tomato in his pocket.

"I never imagined there would be so many editions of Lockhart and the Dangerous Creatures," Anthony muttered, half to the mouse and half to himself. "Paperback, hardback, er, collector's edition... first printing, 1990 best-selling celebration edition... great... revised edition, French translation, German translation, American edition - why? To change all the 'Muggles' to 'No-Maj's'? Reprint, another revised edition... oh, this one's a signed edition... would you like some cookies?"

The vengeful rat sent a very firm rejection to his mind, while at the same time adding a polite thank you.

"Okay," Anthony said, pulling a book from the shelf and sitting on the sofa next to him to read. At least Lockhart had good taste in choosing sofa cushions.

After a while, the mouse finished eating the tomatoes and crawled out of his pocket, using the edge of the pocket to clean its mouth and paws.

Anthony glanced at it, held up "Walking with Trolls" and read in a low voice: "...the troll pulled the dead horned beast over, and I used spells to cut it open, peeled off the skin, and took out the internal organs. For the troll, it must be incredible that I can easily accomplish various things that it can't do with this short wooden stick-the magic wand. I wanted to roast all the meat over the fire, but the troll was still a little afraid of my fire spell, so I only roasted the part I ate. At the same time, I ate a few tomatoes as salad. When the troll saw me do this, it immediately groaned, snorted loudly, and waved the stick. Later I realized that it thought I was starving, so I threw away the meat to eat such a strange and disgusting thing." The vengeful mouse stopped and squeaked in opposition.

Anthony laughed, put the book aside, reached out and touched the mouse: "Conclusion, the troll is not a gourmet."

The mouse was satisfied, and climbed up Anthony's shoulders along the clothes, curled up in the gap between his neck and the back of the sofa, and prepared to take a nap. Anthony leaned back, closed his eyes, and said, "You know, I also think their battle is not over. I hope they don't pull down the chandelier again."

He suddenly heard a chuckle. Anthony opened his eyes suddenly, sat up straight, and looked behind him. The evil spirit mouse suddenly fell into the gap between him and the sofa, but it immediately turned over, squeezed out from the soft sofa pillow, and ran back into Anthony's pocket.

A tall, thin figure was leaning against the honours case, his silver beard and hair falling to the bottom of Lockhart's portrait frame.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I'm sorry to have disturbed your sleep, Henry."

"It's okay, don't take it to heart... No, sir, what are you doing here?" Anthony said, glancing at the clock between the bookshelves. "Three in the morning?"

"I think I could ask you exactly the same question, so why don't we just skip this?" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Good morning, Henry."

"Good morning," Anthony replied, watching as Dumbledore strode around some decorative balloons and sat down across from him.

"Ah, Gilderoy's adventure series!" said Dumbledore. "Nicholas asked me to send him a set after he left England. You know, too many people are trying to find them, so they are not suitable to appear in magic bookstores, and Flourish and Blotts has not yet opened international mail orders."

Anthony asked, "Did he like it?"

Dumbledore pondered, "Well, speaking of adventures, Nico said he once fought a Hungarian Horntail..."

Anthony smiled, and Dumbledore glanced at him and also gave him a sly smile.

The wicked rat finally recovered from its shock and slowly crawled out of the pocket stained with tomato juice, stepped over the buttons, and crawled into the dry pocket on the other side under the watchful eyes of Anthony and Dumbledore.

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Anthony asked.

"Of course, Henry," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly, as if he had been waiting for Anthony to say this.

"When you invited me to Hogwarts..." Anthony said, "Did you realise that I was a necromancer? I may have said it, but sometimes I feel that I might be too dangerous for a school..."

"Alas," said Dumbledore quietly, "I must admit that I agree with you that a necromancer would be a very dangerous addition to a school."

Anthony took a deep breath.

But Dumbledore hadn't finished yet. "Alastor once asked exactly the same question as you. He tried to pick a quarrel with me, but I told him that while I recognised the dangers of necromancers, I thought Henry Anthony was the safest person for the school." He smiled at Anthony, his blue eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Not because of what you are, Henry, but because of who you are - who you think you are, who you choose to be."

(End of this chapter)