Anthony said calmly, "If your goal is cultivating predators, then who's the prey, Snape? Those not outstanding enough in ability, those without prominent enough backgrounds, or those students not bred as predators—students from other houses?"
Snape twisted his lips and said softly, "I don't care." He whipped around and started cleaning his potion-making table, threw various materials clattering back into bottles, jars, and boxes.
A clear gesture of dismissal.
Anthony sighed. "I'm not trying to argue with you, Snape. That wasn't my intention. Yes, I don't understand Slytherin, don't understand what you all face, but at least... at least..." He hesitated.
At least not when Roger Davies worried about incoming Bludgers, his sister was experiencing severe anxiety problems?
At least not letting those students who considered themselves superior bully classmates unscrupulously?
At least pay attention to students in trouble?
He finally said, "At least, I can try. This is a school, not an arena... If they must fight in the future regardless, I hope students can at least have some warm memories." He said from the heart, "That's very important for a person."
"Of course. Be my guest," Snape said in an uncaring flat tone.
Anthony said, "Do you have enough happy memories, Snape? Strength from Slytherin, enough to support you casting a Patronus?"
Snape immediately turned around. Black robes viciously carved an arc in the air from his violent movement, dark eyes deep and hollow. He stared at Anthony and said in a low voice, "That's none of your business."
Anthony shrugged. "Just curious. You know, outstanding graduate interviews and such."
The Potions professor's office door banged open. Snape gritted his teeth, gripped his arm tightly, and pushed Anthony outside the door.
"Your curiosity is excessive," Snape said.
BANG. The door closed in Anthony's face.
Anthony said to a spider crawling past on the wall, "All right."
The castle at night was completely silent. Walking up from the dungeons, he could even hear the Black Lake lapping against the castle walls.
Anthony pondered. He needed more information to know what all this was about.
His cat glanced at him lazily when he came in and meowed softly. Anthony sighed, scooped up the cat, and buried his face in its soft fur. "I seem to be making trouble for myself..."
The cat rarely patiently let him hold it.
Anthony raised his head and smoothed its fur. "Okay, thank you." He opened a bottle of wine for the cat. This was from the pub he used to frequent most, bought when he returned from Christmas break. Very familiar wine fragrance filled his bedroom, almost like he was home again.
The cat jumped to the ground and satisfactorily rubbed a circle around his legs. Anthony let it transform back to Skeleton Cat—while confirming he'd really locked the door—casually washed up, then collapsed back on the bed.
Flames in the cat food bowl burned steadily like a small night light.
Perhaps because he slept too late and thought too much, Anthony felt somewhat listless when he woke.
He originally planned to spend the weekend at the library researching flesh magic again, try combining it with Necromancy, and bring the Wraith Chicken to school soon—he really needed a pet that didn't wake him by scratching viciously. But today he rarely didn't want to go to the library.
This lazy mood was very rare for Anthony. He almost novelty decided to follow this impulse. So after washing up, he hesitated, looked at the weather—as always, gloomy—and planned to walk around inside the castle.
"Going out?" he asked the cat.
The cat twitched its ears, rolled over, curled itself up, and went back to sleep.
Anthony smiled and petted it, then took the door out. In the bathroom, Moaning Myrtle was crying mournfully again. Nearly Headless Nick was trying to comfort her, though he stuck half his body out from the wall and maintained a posture ready to leave at any moment.
Myrtle cried loudly, "They—they walked right through me—"
"Yes, yes," Nearly Headless Nick said irritably. "As if we haven't all experienced it."
"Good morning, Myrtle," Anthony said holding the door. "Good morning, Sir Nicholas. I hope everything's well?"
Nick seemed very happy he came and called out loudly, "Oh, good morning, Professor Anthony. Where are you going?"
He acted like even if Anthony said he was going to ask Professor McGonagall to dance, he'd say he wanted to go too.
Anthony said, "Just walking around, want to look around the castle." He considerately added, "Together?"
Nick said gratefully, "Of course, I'm extremely familiar with Hogwarts... Myrtle, you heard, I now have business—"
"And you, Myrtle, together?" Anthony asked.
Moaning Myrtle sat on the sink and sobbed, "No—I'm never going out again, never going out again!"
Nearly Headless Nick explained, "She went out this morning and several students walked through her body... I mean, like every ghost has experienced, then she..." He shook his head and didn't continue.
"Several students!" Myrtle cried. "Several students! That was over ten people! Of course, that's far from enough. How could it be enough? Everyone should do this! Let's walk through her body, so much fun! Line up quickly, London Bridge is falling down, falling down!"
She sang as if not London Bridge falling down, but Hogwarts falling down.
Anthony said sympathetically, "I'm sure you must be very angry."
"Angry, of course!" Myrtle said, took a deep breath, and started crying again. "But they—they—also mocked me—"
Nearly Headless Nick sighed impatiently. "They weren't mocking you, just discussing that notice!"
"What notice?" Anthony asked puzzled.
"Learning something," Nick answered. "Many students gathered over there, Professor. I can lead you there." He hurriedly floated out.
Myrtle stopped crying and stared at Anthony.
Anthony said, "If you don't want to come along, I completely understand. Perhaps in the future we can walk together at night? I promise then there won't be rude students walking through you."
If there were, his caught night-wandering students would add several more names.
Myrtle said quietly, "I don't want to walk with a professor."
Anthony said amused, "All right, but you can still go out at night and see if any student who angered you is night-wandering."
Myrtle imagined that scene and giggled.
"I will," she said. "I'll scream loudly." Then she immersed herself in fantasized revenge and schadenfreude.
Anthony somewhat doubted whether he'd made a not-so-good suggestion.
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