💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎
🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch
⏰ Resets Monday!
"So we no longer need to worry about the Basilisk?" Dumbledore asked.
Since Dumbledore was present, Fawkes no longer needed to force itself. From the moment Anthony stepped into the Headmaster's office, it flew to the top of a high perch. Anthony believed if the office had an attic, Fawkes would be willing to perch even higher.
Anthony nodded. "I think so, Headmaster." Unless the castle actually had a happy Basilisk family.
This morning, Anthony had just reached the bottom of the Headmaster's office stairs with his note when the gargoyle jumped aside by itself.
He walked up the spiral staircase. The office door stood open and Dumbledore sat behind his desk examining a strange golden watch, looked up as he entered, and calmly asked him to sit as if they'd made an appointment.
So Anthony told him what happened last night.
He started with the Room of Requirement, mentioned the Hog's Head Inn's backyard—Albus Dumbledore gently shook his head hearing his brother's name—then how he got inspiration from the passage and discovered the Basilisk's dining hall, then Snape and Quirrell's help—Dumbledore raised his eyebrows with great interest.
He hesitated but still confessed to Dumbledore about the cat's influence on him. Since Aberforth Dumbledore said his brother never fired professors, if lucky, perhaps he could take a long holiday.
Dumbledore listened seriously to his account and told Anthony when he realized his power, self-restraint became an eternal lesson. He could only give advice based on his experience, but everything still needed Anthony to experience personally.
"Henry, since you ask me... Even if cruel, I still suggest you don't forget how you felt when you thought the cat would leave you—regret, pain, fear of yourself," Dumbledore said seriously in a quiet voice. "These very emotions constantly warn us and make us use our power carefully."
Fawkes turned its neck from the perch to look at Dumbledore and called softly like a comfort. Its clear song echoed in the office and the snoring of former Headmasters pretending to sleep on the walls paused for a moment.
Dumbledore smiled. "Though you may not realize it, Henry, you are fortunate. Your cat came back... I'm truly happy for you..." Anthony was surprised to discover his slender fingers trembled slightly. "But please don't be complacent—fate favors dramatic games. When you feel everything goes smoothly and you're invincible, please be very careful."
"I will," Anthony promised.
Besides the cat, he also told Dumbledore about his chicken and mouse.
"If you agree, I don't want to fabricate bodies for them anymore. Let's keep things simple," Anthony said. "Peeves still wanders Hogwarts—why can't there be a few mysteriously appearing transparent animals? After all, this is a magical castle."
Dumbledore said, "Of course, Henry. As long as you guarantee they won't throw statues around, I see no problem."
"I can guarantee it," Anthony said. "Actually, I guess they probably can't lift statues. Peeves is surprisingly strong, Headmaster."
Dumbledore said seriously, "Small statues neither." His eyes gleamed with amusement.
Anthony promised, "All right, small statues neither. They're very friendly. In fact, my cat is rather the exception."
Before leaving, Dumbledore asked Anthony if he had anything else to tell him, anything at all.
Anthony considered—except for this long night, everything was quite normal. Since deciding not to create a body for the Wraith Chicken, the only thing he needed to consider now was how to move it to Hogwarts.
"I think not," he said, then suddenly remembered something. "Ah, right—when I investigated the Basilisk, Snape thought I brought the troll to school..."
Dumbledore said, "I apologize for him, Henry."
"Not that, sir," Anthony frowned. "I'm wondering, who exactly let the troll in?"
He left somewhat puzzled, clutched two lemon drops, slowly walked down the stairs, and nodded to Professor McGonagall coming up. He felt Dumbledore dismissed him with a strange smile.
"Albus hasn't left yet?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Not half a minute ago," Anthony said.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Excellent." She held a large stack of parchments.
Anthony watched her stride toward the Headmaster's office and felt his eyes probably also carried a strange smile.
No classes today. After returning, Anthony took off his coat and lay on the repaired bed. The cat and mouse occupied the south windowsill and north wardrobe respectively and stared at each other across the entire room.
"You'll get along well, right?" he asked with a trace of sleepiness and tried resting a bit.
But his eyes had just closed when he heard a bang. Opened them to find his wardrobe lying flat on the floor with the mouse fleeing among various sleeves and collars.
The cat sat elegantly with tail curled beside the scattered wardrobe and clothes, as if all this had nothing to do with it.
Anthony sighed and started repairing the wardrobe. Neither mouse nor cat's emotions were intense enough for him to sense. He optimistically believed this meant they were just playing now.
After fixing the wardrobe, Anthony sat on the bed edge thinking for a while, decided to leave the playground to the two newly acquainted summons, and go out for a walk himself.
He went out and knocked on Professor Quirrell's door. After yesterday's everything, he hoped Professor Quirrell had been to the Hospital Wing—even if not, he hoped the other wasn't hurt. But these weren't the main reasons. If he had to say, he knocked purely because Professor Quirrell lived close.
No one answered.
Anthony knocked again and started wondering if Professor Quirrell had morning classes. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor responsible for all years was indeed much busier than him, an elective professor only handling two years. He started considering visiting Myrtle.
But after a while, he heard some movement in the room. Then the door opened and revealed Professor Quirrell's face, paler than usual. He asked sweatily, "Pro—Professor Anthony?"
Anthony said, "I hope you slept well, Professor Quirrell. I came to ask..." He hesitated and found a random excuse. "To ask if you eat lemon drops?"
He opened his hand. Two gifts from Dumbledore lay in his palm.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (50+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here:patreon.com/GoldenLong
Happy reading, everyone!
