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Anthony returned to the staff room and let out a long breath.
"How was it?" Professor Burbage handed him a cupcake. "Were the students cooperative?"
"I think it went well." Anthony reflected. "I was a bit nervous when preparing, so I arranged half the class for practical work. At least they enjoyed the practical part. They completed all the tasks, so I gave Gryffindor ten points. I hope that wasn't too excessive."
Professor Burbage reassured him. "Ten points is very appropriate. Don't worry, Henry. You did wonderfully. The Weasley twins are quite a test for new professors."
Anthony had a good attitude. "I didn't expect them to listen very seriously. As long as students are willing to take this course, I'm happy. If they also learn something about Muggles, that exceeds my expectations."
"Sounds like you're giving the whole class Exceeds Expectations." Professor Burbage joked.
Professor McGonagall beside them nodded. "All new professors are like this. At least you prepared very thoroughly, Professor Anthony."
Anthony bit into his cupcake and didn't continue. He knew who Professor McGonagall was referring to.
"Professor Quirrell, well..." Professor Burbage sighed. "Poor fellow. But I must say, his Muggle Studies teaching wasn't very good either. Even from my perspective, previous graduates' understanding of Muggles was surprisingly limited."
Anthony defended Quirrell. "But his Defense Against the Dark Arts level is quite high."
Apart from that meeting at the Leaky Cauldron, he hadn't seen much of Professor Quirrell. Quirrell rarely came to the staff room. Even when eating in the Great Hall, he always looked paranoid. Anyone speaking to him could startle him. Anthony hadn't bothered him much.
Even though his office was on the same floor as Quirrell's, he'd never visited Professor Quirrell. Anthony had been busy catching up on coursework and preparing lessons at the time.
Quirrell had visited him once, but Anthony's cat had been extremely displeased, whining throughout the room. Anthony had apologetically sent him away. His comical large turban made his complexion appear even paler, so much so that Anthony couldn't help suggesting he visit Madam Pomfrey at the Hospital Wing for some potions.
"His level is high, but he's not good at dealing with students. If Professor Quirrell could prepare lessons as seriously as Professor Anthony, perhaps his classroom wouldn't be such a disaster." Professor McGonagall said fairly. "I had to dock fifty points from my own House because the Weasley twins decided to secretly cast a Leg-Locker Curse on Professor Quirrell's turban. Professor Quirrell was so angry he nearly cried."
Anthony's eyes widened in surprise.
He'd heard Professor Quirrell's turban was a gift from an African prince, thanking him for helping the prince escape an Inferius. Anthony was very interested in Inferi—he still felt he'd been resurrected rather than affected by some strange time magic—but this also made him somewhat afraid of Professor Quirrell.
"Did they succeed?" Professor Burbage asked curiously.
"No." Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together and shook her head. She seemed to find this somewhat amusing too. "Professor Quirrell protected his turban with very advanced magic."
"Good for him." Professor Burbage said. "By the way, how's Potter doing?"
A gentle smile appeared on Professor McGonagall's face. "Not bad. He's adapting to magic quickly. I still think Albus—" She suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Anthony tactfully stood. "I'd like to go to the library for some reference materials."
"See you at dinner, Henry." Professor Burbage waved at him and gave him another small cupcake. Anthony sometimes felt Professor Burbage was a bit like his grandmother.
...
On his way to the library, Anthony encountered Nearly Headless Nick, Gryffindor's ghost. Nick had been pensively preparing to pass through a wall when Anthony suddenly called out to him, startling him into a headfirst dive with his entire upper body stuck in the wall. Anthony watched somewhat apologetically as he extracted his head.
"Ah, hello, Professor." Nick scratched his neck. His head wobbled on his neck. "What can I do for you?"
"Sir Nicholas, I have a question that might be somewhat presumptuous."
"Ask away, Professor. We ghosts have been dead so long that we're hardly truly bothered by posthumous matters anymore. Oh, how I miss being alive." He said with great sorrow. "I'd like to eat steak."
"I can imagine." Anthony said empathetically. "Even if not steak. Anything to make you feel you're not just an emptiness."
"Yes, indeed... But let's not talk about that, Professor. What's your question?"
"Well, I have some questions about Peeves."
Anthony had encountered Peeves yesterday on his way out of the library after lesson preparation. Peeves had been hiding in a chandelier, tearing someone's unfortunate homework into pieces and throwing paper balls at students passing below. Gryffindor prefect Percy Weasley had pompously tried to stop him and been hit square on the nose by a flying paper ball.
"Haha, bullseye!" Peeves grabbed the chandelier and somersaulted. "Red-haired brat has a red nose, red-haired brat has a red nose!"
Anthony was surprised to discover that unlike the school's other ghosts, Peeves wasn't milk-white and could touch objects—in other words, Peeves was more like the wraiths familiar to necromancers than these ghosts wandering the castle. He'd tried using wraith-control methods to pull Peeves from the chandelier. Peeves had looked around suspiciously.
"Nasty thing is tickling me." Peeves said huffily, angrily scattering all the paper scraps to the floor before shooting up through the ceiling and vanishing.
Today Anthony had originally planned to visit the library to research school history and investigate Peeves' origins. As theoretically the only living necromancer currently, he held great interest in everything related to necromancy. Since he'd met Nick on the way, he didn't mind directly asking the ghosts more familiar with Peeves.
"Ah, Peeves!" Nearly Headless Nick said irritably. "Don't mind him, Professor. He's rude to everyone. I don't know why Dumbledore tolerates him. Except for the Friar who keeps forgiving him, all the ghosts dislike him. I mean, he doesn't even qualify as a proper ghost—"
Anthony caught the key phrase. "What do you mean 'doesn't even qualify as a proper ghost'?"
"Look at him, Professor Anthony!" Nick said vehemently. "No clean translucent body, no cold death aura, and certainly no dignity befitting the dead! I really wonder what he encountered on that path to become such a mad thing."
"That path?"
Nearly Headless Nick suddenly fell silent. He froze, then sighed very, very sadly. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, Professor. I don't want to. I'm sorry."
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