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Perhaps because he'd spent too much time the previous day thinking about souls and death, Anthony fell into nightmares again.
The second before his cat scratched him awake, he was still drifting on that black river.
"Thanks," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and looking down at the gradually healing wounds on his arms and chest.
Taking advantage of him sitting up, his cat unceremoniously jumped onto the pillow, circled it, then lay down provocatively. Anthony ignored it and went to wash up on his own. After all, this cat didn't shed.
When he emerged from the washroom, he discovered the cat had already fallen asleep on the pillow. Anthony stared at it for a while, then gathered his things, planning to eat breakfast and spend the day at the library. He needed to be around people today.
After circling the bookshelves, the pile of books before his seat had grown frighteningly tall. Anthony opened his notebook, determined to read through them all today.
For rest, he'd mostly taken Muggle Studies-related books—he was reading this material faster and faster. Sometimes just seeing the title and author, he could guess the core argument. Today he'd deliberately picked authors he recognized.
Morning light streamed through the library windows, settling on his desk. As the sun gradually rose, the patch of light slowly spread, sliding along the books' shadows to the floor, illuminating even the dust in golden brilliance.
The library gradually filled with people. Anthony had just moved himself to a corner position when two lower-year students hurriedly sat across from him.
"Quick, Seamus. Hermione won't let me copy this time," one student said.
Anthony glanced at him through the book pile. Ron Weasley—frequently mentioned by professors as Potter's friend, with the same red hair as his brothers.
The student called Seamus dumped books from his arms onto the table, irritably searching through them. "Don't rush me. I haven't written it either. Where's Harry?"
"He hasn't written it either," Ron said. "But Wood said if Harry goes to training, he'll give him all his first-year Potions essays."
"But didn't Wood get a P in Potions?"
"It's an A," Ron said gloomily. "We asked Fred and George."
Seamus was silent for a moment, then suddenly exclaimed, "Here! I found it!" Madam Pince looked over alertly. Seamus and Ron quickly covered their mouths.
"Here, here," Seamus said quietly. "It lists twelve uses. We'll copy separately, or Snape will definitely notice."
Ron nodded. "You copy one, three, five. I'll copy two, four, six."
This corner returned to quiet. Besides the wind outside the windows and distant footsteps of walking students, only the rustle of quills rapidly scratching parchment remained—the scratching sounded excessively fast. Anthony glanced over. Ron's letters were nearly bursting through the parchment onto the desk.
He lowered his head and continued reading. The current book described how Muggles mistreated magical children. The author firmly believed the International Statute of Secrecy couldn't be abolished, even suggesting that once children showed magical talent, they should be taken to completely sealed magical communities.
Anthony thoughtfully recorded this viewpoint in his notebook. He hadn't considered this matter from this angle.
"I'm sick of Snape's essays," Ron complained. "I want a holiday."
"What are your Christmas plans?" Seamus asked quietly while copying.
Anthony knew the answer to this question. His pen pal, Arthur Weasley, had recently written asking if he needed any Romanian specialties. In his letter, he'd said they planned to visit the Weasley who studied dragons after graduation for Christmas, leaving Ron and the twins at school.
Ron thought for a moment. "Probably staying at school, just right to be with Harry."
"That's really nice," Seamus said. "Dean and I both have to go home. Neville probably does too. You two can sleep in five beds."
"Just wait. We'll jump from this bed to that bed, like two Christmas Bludgers," Ron muttered. "Speaking of which, Neville apparently doesn't have to submit this essay."
Seamus said, "He was injured. Hey, what do you think Slytherin did to make Neville so happy lately?"
"If Slytherin's hourglass emptied because of me, I'd be that happy too," Ron said bitterly. "That Anthony wasn't cursed to death by Snape. I think he should be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
After a while, Ron and Seamus finished copying that section.
Ron measured his essay length. "Still half left."
Seamus measured too. "Me too. Should've written bigger. Still need to explain the principle of material addition order... where do we find that?"
"It's due this afternoon. No time. Come on, I'll copy yours, you copy mine," Ron said bravely. "If we scramble the order, I don't believe Snape can tell."
Seamus nodded. "Right. He can't possibly read every single one carefully."
Anthony curiously looked over again. He personally witnessed Ron copy "lionfish spine" from the book as "loinfish spine," then copied by Seamus as "lonefish spine." He decided not to remind them.
After a while, Ron noticed Anthony. He nudged Seamus's elbow, indicating the professor sitting there. The two silently gathered their things and tiptoed to another seat.
Time passed unknowingly. When he came to his senses, he'd already missed lunch.
Anthony considered, then decided to find something to eat in the school kitchens himself. The school's house-elves were already very busy. He didn't plan to add too much extra work for them.
He came to the kitchens under a Disillusionment Charm. Pushing open the door, he discovered someone had beaten him to it.
Clearly, he wasn't the only one planning to eat lunch in the afternoon. The Weasley twins and their friend—Anthony remembered the surname was probably Jordan—sat laughing at the kitchen table, with two large plates of chips and pork chops before them.
"Praise Hogwarts house-elves! I'm so glad to move out of the bathroom," one of the Weasley brothers said, cutting pork chops. "Though that room has everything except food."
"Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. I hate it," the other said.
"Come on, you can overturn that damn law," Jordan encouraged.
"Can we?"
"Hey, of course we can," the speaking Weasley squeezed lemon onto his pork chop. "Every day in our dreams we overturn seven laws."
Anthony revealed himself. "Good afternoon, ambitious gentlemen. Coco, if you could bring me a plate of chips like that... oh, thank you. Ketchup, excellent."
The three students in the kitchen stared at him.
Anthony shook his head. "Eating doesn't violate school rules. Don't let me dampen your spirits... can anyone tell me what room you're talking about?"
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