💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎
🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch
⏰ Resets Monday!
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After breakfast, Anthony prepared to visit the Hospital Wing to check on Roger's condition. When he left, Dumbledore was watching Harry Potter at the Gryffindor table with concern: this boy with dark circles was squeezing a large blob of ketchup onto his grilled sausage. Smiling and saying something to Ron. The snowy white owl flew in. Pecked his ear. Then flew away.
"Fred and George say they're getting an owl too," Anthony deliberately passed behind them. Heard Ron tell Harry. "But I don't know where they plan to get it from... And they told me not to tell Mum."
His third brother, Gryffindor prefect Percy Weasley, asked across half the table, "What not to tell Mum?"
"Not to tell Mum you knocked on Professor McGonagall's door early in the morning!" Ron said. Percy's face flushed red at once. Angrily sat back down. Firmly turned his face toward the side with back to Ron.
Harry pulled Ron's attention back. "Hagrid invited me to his hut this afternoon. Want to come?"
"Of course we do, Harry," Hermione said. Frowned and picked an owl feather from her oatmeal. "But I can only go for half an hour. Then I have to go to the library to revise—seriously, I suggest you come with me too. Can't believe you completely forgot the revision schedule I made for you?"
"Hermione, until exams there's still..." Ron bit his fork looking toward the ceiling displaying blue sky and white clouds. "Over a month! Do we really need to start memorizing who invented what cauldron now?"
Hermione said anxiously, "That's only five weeks! And you can't count by exam end time!"
Anthony quickly left. He suddenly remembered he hadn't prepared final exam questions for third and fourth years. Couldn't help feeling somewhat anxious too. Elective course finals were even earlier than required courses.
The Hospital Wing's windows were half open. Breeze blew the blocking white gauze curtains and bedside drapes gently floating.
Anthony pushed open the door. Walked softly into the room. Immediately found Roger's bed—the bedside table held flowers and snacks. Plus a large pile of Quidditch star Chocolate Frog cards. Each person riding brooms flying around in cards.
With the brilliant ball skills shown in the match and currently dramatic fate, Roger gained many admirers and worshippers out of thin air. Madam Pomfrey threw away things she felt weren't good for patient recovery. Refused gifts that would disturb other patients or took too much space. The remaining portion still decorated the sickbed with flowers.
Anthony walked closer. Then discovered someone sitting beside Roger's bed.
Tracey Davis was concentrating on arranging flower bouquets picked from the Black Lake. Picking out little bugs one by one. Placing them on the bedside table to crush. Before her brother's closed eyes now neatly lined various ladybug, spider, small gnat corpses.
"Good morning, Miss Davis," Anthony spoke. "How's the situation?"
Tracey put down the tweezers.
"Good morning, Professor Anthony," she said. Brushed aside a strand of hair hanging over Roger's eyelid. "Not bad. Madam Pomfrey says Roger woke once at dawn. Consciousness very clear. But for treatment convenience, she fed him some sleeping draught. Should wake soon now."
Anthony nodded. Stared at scars around Roger's neck. "That's good. I apologize to you both, Miss Davis. My reaction wasn't timely enough then..."
But even thinking back afterward, Anthony didn't know what he could do. Facing alchemical products that didn't rely on life to operate, his most powerful and most dangerous force was useless.
Tracey shook her head. "Not your fault, Professor. I was there too. Roger he... fortunately no life danger..." Her hand gripped tightly on the bed edge.
"Professor Flitwick's spell was used very timely," Anthony said. Bent down to look carefully. "Of course, Potter also helped quite a bit."
Just then, Roger's steady breathing suddenly changed. His chest rose and fell violently. Then opened his eyes.
Tracey called softly, "Roger!"
"Tracey," Roger responded with a hoarse voice. Stared at Anthony and paused. "Oh, Professor Anthony." He propped on his arms. Struggled to sit up.
Anthony quickly took pillows and padded behind his waist. "Drink some water, Davies." He watched Roger take the cup from Tracey's hands. Drank several sips. "How do you feel?"
"Terrible," Roger smiled. Touched his bumpy neck and chin. "Do I look tattooed?"
"Don't talk nonsense," Tracey said.
Roger asked with a hoarse voice, "What time did you come, Tracey?" Only then did Anthony see Tracey's eyes also showed dark circles. Just like Gryffindor boys.
Tracey said, "Six o'clock."
"What a coincidence," Anthony said.
"What's wrong?" Roger asked.
So Anthony explained to them the six o'clock seven hundred seventy-seven snakes declaration. When he mentioned Harry was a Parselmouth, Roger just said, "I guess I'm lucky." When Anthony mentioned classmates' suspicions of Harry, Roger kept shaking his head. Hearing that the one who provoked Harry was also a Ravenclaw classmate, Roger simply rubbed his face hard.
Anthony smiled. "I think I don't need to explain which version of the story I'm inclined to believe."
"This matter's very simple," Roger said hoarsely. "Potter saved me. That's it." He looked at Anthony somewhat confused. Trying to confirm if he woke up into a world with different common sense.
Anthony felt necessary to say a few words for Roger's classmates. "That's because you didn't hear. When Potter demonstrated his Parseltongue talent, you'd really easily believe he's a bad person."
"Did you hear, Tracey?" Roger asked.
Tracey nodded. Looked up asking Anthony, "Is Potter a Parselmouth, Professor?"
Anthony said somewhat surprised, "I think so, Miss Davis. Why, you don't think he is?"
"Draco doesn't think he is," Tracey said. "Draco thinks Potter just randomly said something. Pretended to be like Parseltongue. Actually just playing tricks. Wanting everyone to think he's impressive."
"That's quite a novel angle," a voice suddenly sounded in the ward.
Another voice said, "Right, how didn't we think of that?"
The Weasley twins' heads abruptly appeared in the ward. Then their bodies. Fred's hand gripped an Invisibility Cloak (much inferior compared to Harry's, but very large). George smiled, "You didn't close the door, Professor Anthony... or was it you, Davies."
"It was me," Anthony said. Stood up and closed the ward door.
Tracey looked at the Weasley twins surprised. Seemed unable to figure out why they'd come.
Anthony also asked, "What are you two here for?"
"To care for classmates, of course," Fred said. Leaned to the bedside to look at Roger. Roger smiled and pushed him. Anthony puzzled discovered their relationship was much closer than he thought—last time Anthony caught the Weasley brothers and Tracey wandering at night, when mentioning Roger they didn't show such familiarity.
As if seeing his question, they explained to Anthony the reason for relationship change: Muggle Studies practical activity.
Roger's good friend and roommate joined the pet rescue center activity with the Weasley twins. Delightedly discovered they were all fans of the same Quidditch team. The Weasley brothers hit it off with that Ravenclaw with a head full of wild ideas. They maintained this cross-house friendship after returning. So Roger and the twins gradually became familiar.
"If just from classes, you can't tell at all he's such a fun person," Fred said. "But when he started trying if eating five sweets would fly higher than eating just one, we knew this might be our friend."
"We brought you a gift," Fred said.
"Originally wanted to place it directly by your bedside."
"But Madam Pomfrey would definitely throw it away."
"So..." George said. Struggled to take out a huge gift box from under the Invisibility Cloak. "We stayed up all night, mate. Even if you don't appreciate it, at least don't report to Madam Pomfrey."
Anthony reminded, "Do I need to avoid this?"
"No need, Professor," Fred said confidently. "You'll like it."
Just as Roger had Tracey unwrap the colored paper covered with smiley faces outside the gift box, several students' discussion sounded outside the window: "Where did those two guys run off to?" "Don't know, but they definitely have to return to the common room tonight. We'll settle accounts with them then." "You want to—yawn—wait until evening? I don't want to stay up tonight."
"Sounds like you, cough cough, got into trouble," Roger said leaning on the headboard.
"Not big trouble," Fred said. Stared at Tracey removing the last layer of wrapping. "Can't compare to—"
A large snake darted out from the gift box. Tracey startled and gripped the gift box lid. Held it like a shield before her chest.
"—can't compare to if Madam Pomfrey discovers us," George said. Raised his hand soothingly to pale-faced Tracey. "Hey, hey, don't shout, please. It's like this."
He stood before the snake. Raised his wand chanting, "Coil around hiss me."
The snake slithered over with an awkward posture. Clumsily coiled around George's deliberately extended calf. During which George helped with his hand. Adjusted the snake's position. To prevent it coiling itself then tying itself in a knot.
"This thing's a bit dumb. We're still perfecting it..." Fred said. Also raised his wand. "Release hiss him."
The snake immediately slid down docile as a rope. Plopped to the ground.
"Currently available command passwords are 'Coil around hiss me,' 'Release hiss me,' and 'Release hiss him.' We're not sure if it can identify gender. So 'Release hiss him' and 'Release hiss her' now have the same effect," George introduced. "We're considering adding 'Pull hair hiss' and 'Run away hiss.' Then we can fulfill our promise."
Anthony asked amazed, "You made this in one night?"
"Of course not," Fred picked up the snake. "We already had some similar things on hand. Just none were formed yet..."
George said, "And the principle's actually very simple. Just making it perform corresponding actions according to passwords. Statues and such are all like this. But our inspiration mainly came from, well, predecessors' enlightenment." He smiled at dumbfounded Roger. "Also, don't blame your roommate for not visiting. He contributed quite a bit here too."
"If you agree, we plan to name it Roger the Snake," Fred said. "We already thought of the slogan: Hiss hiss hiss, hiss hiss, hiss hiss hiss."
"We want to ask Harry to do promotion."
Roger laughed while coughing. "I can coil it around my neck. As long as you split me some profit."
Tracey seemed to feel this toy wasn't very auspicious. Frowned staring at it for long. But the Weasley brothers quickly demonstrated the ultimate password: "I am hiss Roger Davies hiss hiss."
The snake before them gradually turned weird dark purple. Then in an earth-shattering explosion sound spat flames from its mouth. Spun in a strange posture. Finally flew upward backward. Exploded under the Hospital Wing ceiling. Left a line of golden "Get well soon hiss."
Tracey finally couldn't help laughing. "I was going to say Draco might want one. Now he won't."
"Malfoy? Malfoy's definitely jealous to death. He wishes everyone thought he was a Dark wizard," George said.
Tracey also couldn't help nodding. Said quietly, "Draco keeps saying how could Potter be Slytherin's heir... Well, we also think Potter probably isn't."
"You?" Fred questioned. Then he seemed to suddenly realize Tracey was also a Slytherin member. Somewhat embarrassedly touched his nose. Anthony bet he swallowed several Slytherin jokes that rushed to his mouth.
Soon, Madam Pomfrey attracted by the explosion sound discovered the ward was full of non-sick people. Angrily chased them all out. Only left Tracey accompanying her brother.
"We'll find a way to cure your neck, Mr. Davies," she said seriously yet gently to Roger. "But now, lie down. You're not at the time to sit up yet."
Anthony left the Weasley brothers to the group of students eyeing covetously at the corridor's end. Returned to his office. Greeted his two roommates. The cat was hugging and biting a battered mouse toy on the cat tree. The Wraith Mouse slept indifferently on the cat tree's other side. Sunk in a ball of cotton the cat scratched out.
Anthony took lesson plans from the desk. Waved at them. "I'm going to the library—Cat, don't hurt people."
The cat glanced at him. Pressed ears flat. Irritably scratched around on the frame. In the harsh sound, that cat tree made by a Transfiguration master, abnormally sturdy, was carved with deep scratch marks. The mouse was woken. Twitched whiskers poking head to see what happened.
"Good cat. I'll bring you wine later," Anthony said. Reached out and patted its head. When it swiped a claw, quickly withdrew his hand. Only left a trace that quickly became invisible.
"See you soon," he smiled. Turned and closed the door. When he left, the mouse was moving its cotton little bed down from the swaying cat tree.
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