章 72: 71
After Dumbledore's hints, Anthony unearthed a wealth of information on Dark magic related to body manipulation in the library. It was far more sinister than he had imagined. He initially thought he simply needed to gather a few deceased chickens, extract their essence, and piece them together like repairing a Kneazle skeleton to create a magically assembled chicken. But Dumbledore was right, flesh was far more complex.
While delving into flesh magic, Anthony received dozens of permission slips from parents for the upcoming field trip. Mr. Weasley even volunteered to drive, mentioning he had a few days of annual leave remaining.
Mindful of the car's previously misplaced engine, Anthony politely declined his offer.
However, several parents declined the invitation due to concerns about safety, cost, or other factors. Anthony had to reassure the disappointed students that there would be another opportunity next year, and that they would at least enjoy a break while others were out practicing.
The letter that pleased him most came from a third-year Gryffindor student's parent.
Her daughter had visited her Muggle-born roommate over Christmas. Upon returning, she excitedly told her mother that Muggles were just as the professor had described, simply humans using a different kind of magic. The mother didn't quite grasp the concept of "electricity," but she included her daughter's words verbatim in the letter, thanking Anthony for ensuring her child had a wonderful time at her roommate's home.
Anthony carefully added the letter to his lesson plan.
His lesson plan had grown quite thick by now. It contained not only lessons for his four classes and interesting Muggle Studies perspectives, but also test results, field trip schedules, communication progress with contacts, and his own timetable.
Now, aside from Tracey's detention, his schedule was filled with classes and research. Tracey's detention had initially been scheduled for Tuesday night, which happened to coincide with Pansy Parkinson's final day of detention. After Pansy's cleaning session with Harry and Ron, Anthony thought he might arrange for her and Tracey to work together on a lighter, collaborative task.
However, upon receiving his notice, Tracey immediately sent a note regretfully informing him that she had Astronomy class on Tuesday nights. Anthony agreed to reschedule.
He had a lengthy chat with Pansy during her detention on Monday. A week of detention had allowed him to get to know the girl better, skillfully avoiding sensitive topics and encouraging Pansy to open up to him.
She truly needed someone to talk to, and Anthony was an ideal choice. He always responded to whatever she said, rarely scolded her unless she was outright insulting, and, importantly to an eleven-year-old, he was an adult and a professor.
When she mentioned family honor and Slytherin pride, the strange glint in Pansy's eyes worried Anthony. On the other hand, as someone deeply invested in the wizarding world's social structure, she bore pressure beyond her years to uphold its rules.
Spotting Anthony's cat, Pansy said with a hint of disappointment, "You know, I used to have a pet. It wasn't Matilda – oh, Matilda is my mother's owl, she's just on loan to deliver letters. I used to have a dog."
This caught Anthony off guard. Based on his limited understanding of Slytherins, their potential pet choices were: cat or owl, naturally; snake, less common, but plausible; toad or lizard, at least stylistically fitting. But a panting dog seemed out of place, like a warm sausage tossed into a salad.
"I had a poodle once," Pansy, who bore a slight resemblance to one herself, gestured. "It was quite large, with yellow fur. I named him Charles. Then my father found out."
Even though he could guess the ending, Anthony still asked, "What happened then?"
"Charles was gone," Pansy said matter-of-factly. "I had the house-elf feed him twice a day, but then the creature told my father. And then Charles was gone – I assume they just abandoned him somewhere. That's a pretty miserable way to die." She swung her legs on the chair, speaking in a remarkably calm tone.
"I'm sorry. I wish your father had explained his reasons."
Pansy shook her head, still looking a bit aggrieved, like a forlorn poodle.
"Then I hope you at least got compensation," Anthony offered.
"Oh, I had the snitching elf beheaded," Pansy replied. "I can't remember its name. It won't ever be hanging on the wall in my family home."
...
Tracey's detention was rescheduled to Friday, as Anthony had to assist Professor Sprout in the greenhouses beforehand. She needed help quickly opening late-blooming Puffapods and properly storing the beans, offering a generous payment of two boxes of cookies for his assistance.
"That's wonderful, Anthony," Professor Sprout said, wiping sweat from her brow.
When Anthony arrived, she was moving a large sack of dragon dung to make space for the Puffapod beans. He hurried to help with the heavy load – perhaps because it came from a Hebridean Black, the potent fertilizer didn't respond well to Levitation Charms. Even the gentlest wand movement sent it flying to the ceiling, and attempting to contain it in a bucket would ruin its potency.
Anthony shook his head. "You're welcome, Professor. I always enjoy coming to the greenhouses."
He wasn't lying. Even in the dreary, rainy days between winter and spring, the greenhouses remained a warm and vibrant oasis.
The enchanted sun shone through the glass panes, its rays nearly touched by the climbing plants. In the perpetually spring-like environment, student projects swayed with emerald leaves. Behind him were enchanted roses that Professor Sprout had prepared for several students who were either in love or about to confess their feelings – Valentine's Day was approaching.
Sprout chatted with Anthony as he rhythmically tossed Puffapods onto a wooden tray.
"We haven't seen you in the staffroom lately. Filius mentioned you're almost as busy as Minerva," she remarked. "Oh, be careful with that one! It's already cracked."
Anthony carefully opened the pod along the fissure, placing the glistening beans into a bucket. "You know, detentions... I'm genuinely curious how they managed to detain so many students at once back in your day. Just Potter, the two Weasleys, and Parkinson have been quite the handful."
Professor Sprout asked, "Did you really have all three of them in detention together?" She sounded almost impressed.
"Didn't you hear?" Anthony asked, surprised. If Dumbledore knew everything happening at school, Professor Sprout knew even more. She even knew things that hadn't happened yet.
"I thought it was a rumor," she explained, "because everyone was saying you made them hold hands and dance in a circle. Wait, did you actually make them dance?"
Anthony shook his head. "No, but it sounds like a fun idea. Please thank your student for me, Pomona."
"I will," she said briskly. "Here, this one is rather small, so don't worry if you can't open it. So you've dealt with Parkinson's detention... and now you're completely free?"
"Not quite. Miss Davis has detention this Friday. Why do you ask?" Anthony noticed Professor Sprout nodding thoughtfully.
Professor Sprout said, "Well... you should be free next Monday? We're having a celebration – don't ask what it is, Anthony, it's a secret, but you're the guest of honor. That's all I can say."
Anthony mentally checked his schedule. "Apart from one afternoon class, I'm free."
"Excellent."
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