Coming out of Dumbledore's office, the sky had quietly turned dark.
Anton came to the restaurant on the first floor of the castle. He was a little hungry.
The restaurant was very lively, everyone was talking about the giant monster, and many people gathered around the long Gryffindor table, listening to Ron telling his heroic deeds vividly.
Harry looked a little shy, but after noticing Draco looking at them jealously from a distance, he joined in the story.
Hermione obviously reconciled with these two people, sitting aside and listening to them adding insult to injury, curling her lips.
In the past, she would have scolded someone who had done something that violated school discipline and still looked complacent.
Anyway, it was very lively.
But the fun is theirs.
Anton carried the huge book to Slytherin's long table, found a deserted corner, and enjoyed the food quietly.
Basically, as long as he carries a book, no one will actively disturb him.
Especially for the lower grade Slytherins, this is the rule.
When it comes to reading, Anton is famous for being more of a Ravenclaw than a Ravenclaw.
Of course, if someone interrupts his reading, this person is more Slytherin than Slytherin.
"It's nothing special, right?" Draco said to Anton unhappily, well, cute roommates always have some privileges.
"Mountain trolls are the most powerful among humanoid creatures like trolls. Obviously, my little cousin has great courage and great strength." Anton said with a smile.
"Hell, I can't stand his proud words." Draco rolled his eyes and left with his two followers.
Anton chuckled lightly and ignored him.
Snapped.
A hand gently patted his shoulder.
"..."
Anton was silent for a moment, then raised his head, it was Professor Quirrell.
"Also...maybe...maybe we can...talk...about it."
It's really Professor Quirrell, which is strange. This person never takes the initiative to look for him, he is always looking for him.
Anton pointed to the huge book next to him, "I need to go back to the dormitory to put this away. After all, it's a bit inconvenient to walk with it."
Quirrell twitched his lips, trying hard to express some kindness, "No...it's okay, eat slowly...slowly, and come to my...my...my office later."
Anton smiled and nodded.
Quirrell walked towards the professor's seat, and Anton squinted at his back.
He would never forget that Quirrell, that scumbag, was planning to kill himself, just last night, how could he forget it just now?
Are you still looking for yourself now?
And it’s still in a flattering tone?
Anton's brain was working rapidly.
After returning to the dormitory, Anton placed the magic book in the small box next to the window sill.
This was probably the safest place he could think of. There were very few records of Slytherin dormitories being broken into.
Moreover, there is a cute little plant under the windowsill.
Draco once complained to Anton not to put these dangerous plants in the dormitory, and after a friendly and cordial exchange, he readily agreed.
This lovely roommate adheres to the principle of ‘join if you can’t beat him’, and also puts a box next to the window sill to store gadgets that he doesn’t want others to know about.
"It'll protect my box, too, right?"
Anton smiled and nodded, "I don't mind sharing."
Therefore, the task of feeding the small plants with meat and blood twice a week fell to Gore.
Both of them are very satisfied and it's a win-win situation.
After taking a shower and changing his clothes, Anton adjusted his mentality and walked slowly to Professor Quirrell's office.
"Are you looking for me?" Anton sat down on the chair in front of the desk politely.
If Voldemort hadn't been parasitic on the back of Quirrell's head, Anton would definitely find a way to kill or maim this girl now.
Don't think that he only has black magic means, his experience in potions is his real trump card.
Instant death, sudden death a month later, paralysis, fake death into a vegetative state, missing arms and legs...
Various packages are available for you to choose from.
As an old wizard, is the direction of potion research aimed at saving lives and healing the wounded?
Anton can definitely guarantee that these potions taste first-class and are satisfying.
In terms of taste, Anton considers himself to be better than both the old wizard and Snape!
Quirrell didn't mind his rudeness. He looked at Anton intently, and the two were silent for a long time.
When it comes to matters like patience, Quirrell has obviously found the wrong person.
Anton can sit with him forever.
If a person doesn't have to eat or poop, he can sit with Quirrell for at least a year. He is such a resilient person.
"I want you to help me," Quirrell said.
Obviously, these days, both humans and ghosts are acting, and he is not actually frightened and stammering.
Anton didn't answer, he just lowered his head and continued to play with his fingers.
"I want you to help me. I saw that three-headed dog. You have a way to deal with it! I also need someone to look out and help me block all emergencies!"
Anton then raised his eyelids and stared at him coldly, "You wanted to kill me then, do you think I would help you?"
"You must help me!" Quirrell's voice rose, "The Dark Devil..."
He paused, clenched his fists hard, stood up, and looked down at Anton, "I didn't mean it! I was so scared at the time, Snape was so powerful, I had to get the things in that room, I
I was so desperate at the time.”
He trembled his lips, "You don't know how desperate I was at that time!"
"Haha." Anton sneered, lowered his head and continued to play with his fingers.
Give yourself a reasonable reason for your behavior, put yourself in the perspective of a weak person, and focus on describing how helpless you are to do this - this kind of rudimentary method has long been stopped by him.
As his strength increased step by step, he became a little tired of this kind of deception that wronged him.
Are you playing this trick in front of me?
You are still a little young.
Quirrell walked around behind the desk and finally stared at him, "You have to help me, I mean, I taught you so much!"
Anton was still playing with his fingers.
He sneered in his heart.
Is that what you taught?
That's Voldemort, you taught a chicken!
However, this also reminded him that obtaining the Sorcerer's Stone was Voldemort's inevitable goal. Now that he had reached this point, he could no longer get away with a simple complaint.
Some things have no room for negotiation.
"Everything has a price, Professor. You taught me so much, and you planned to kill me before. The grudges have been settled long ago."
He couldn't beat Voldemort, and he couldn't beat this guy?
Ah?
If I want to help you, I can, or if you really carry the Dark Lord out, we will help you right away without saying a word.
If you don’t dare, then show some sincerity!
Quirrell was very unwilling. He reached out and touched the turban. He hesitated and put down his hand. He just said, "You must help me!"
"Then..." Anton said quietly, "What is the price?"
"!!!"
Quirrell was stunned and screamed, his sharp tone echoing in the office, "You actually asked me for benefits. Do you know that we are doing it for..."