You Have No Choice

Magic surged within him, like a storm suddenly descending upon a calm sea.

Anton quickly worked up his emotions, ready to cast a spell at any moment. He pursed his lips, jumped down from the Oak Chair, and calmly watched the goblin.

The two stared at each other for a while.

The corner of Anton's mouth lifted slightly. "I bring you greetings on behalf of my teacher, Alex Fiennes."

Whether the Old Wizard and this goblin were enemies or not, the goblin had clearly already linked Anton to the Old Wizard. Trying to argue that he was not the man's apprentice or anything of the sort would only expose his weakness.

In a place like this, the weak only earned themselves a curse.

Pedro the Goblin let out a heh-heh-heh laugh, his thick finger pointing at Lupin on the chair beside them. "If I'm not mistaken, this man was struck by your teacher's Cruciatus Curse."

Anton warily watched his movements. A polite smile rested on his face, but his eyes were icy. "Perhaps he was attacked by another wizard."

"No, no, no." The goblin wagged his finger. "Every living creature has its own scent. As a master of the Cruciatus Curse, Fiennes's curse is just a tiny bit different from those of other wizards."

He looked at Anton teasingly. "Bringing a wizard your teacher attacked to me, little fellow? You've been naughty."

Anton pursed his lips.

Heart's Stirring, a tangled and complicated look appeared in his eyes. He sighed as he looked at Lupin. "I had no choice. He's my uncle—he's my uncle!"

His emotions surged, tears glimmering in his eyes.

It was the conflict between inseverable family ties and his revered teacher. This poor child was caught in the middle. It was too hard.

Far too hard~~~~

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." The goblin made an indescribably appreciative sound. "I like your purity. At least young wizards haven't had their hearts completely blackened by awful Dark Wizards yet."

The goblin did not notice that Mr. Rosier behind him was watching the two of them with keen eyes that seemed capable of seeing through people's hearts. The elegant middle-aged man secretly made a face at Anton.

Fuck!

The sheer contrast instantly reminded Anton of Mr. Bean. He nearly broke and laughed out loud.

Forcing himself back into that emotionally charged state, Anton tilted his head up to keep his tears from falling, his voice turning hoarse. "Mr. Pedro."

He abruptly lowered his head, his face resolute as he glared fiercely at the goblin like a man driven to the end of the road. "For my uncle, I can do anything!"

The goblin paced over to Lupin, flipped open his eyelids, and placed a finger glowing with faint Dark Blue light against Lupin's head.

"This is not good."

The goblin took an exquisite box from a nearby shelf, pulled out a cigar to share with Mr. Rosier, and lit one for himself.

Against his thick fingers, the cigar looked like a chopstick.

He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, one hand tucked into his suit trousers pocket. "This will be a difficult treatment. You may have to pay a great price for it."

He could treat him!

He was going to treat him!

Anton instantly breathed a sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing further. "How much?"

"Money?" Pedro the Goblin laughed as if he had heard something especially funny. Even Rosier laughed.

Anton blinked, looking utterly confused. "Is there a problem?"

In his memories, the healer at Hogwarts could easily treat injuries no matter how severe they were.

This guy was trying to fleece him!

Anton immediately came to a conclusion.

He must have overacted just now and made the goblin think he had him completely under control. He lacked experience in this sort of scheming and deceit, so he could only reflect on it bit by bit and slowly build it up.

The goblin shook his head. "You often see your teacher casually fire off a Cruciatus Curse, so you think it's nothing special?"

Anton nodded in wholehearted agreement.

Of course, it was mainly not because the Old Wizard could cast spells so casually, but because of Anton's own experience. He had endured so many Cruciatus Curses, and even the worst one had merely knocked him unconscious. After waking up, he had been perfectly fine.

"The Cruciatus Curse is one of The Three Unforgivable Curses. You understand?"

Seeing Anton nod, the goblin gave a cold chuckle and exposed his thick, yellowish teeth. "No, you don't!"

"There are far more brutal curses than the Cruciatus Curse—more vicious, more deeply harmful, more powerful. Over my hundreds of years of life, I've seen plenty."

"But not one of those curses was classified as Unforgivable."

Anton quickly recalled the novels and videos he had seen in his previous life. "Because there's no counter-curse?"

Smack!

"Correct!" Pedro the Goblin snapped his fingers.

"No counter-curse means that after being attacked by an Unforgivable Curse, there is no way to recover through spells—there may not even be any way to treat it."

He took another puff of smoke and continued at length. "The Three Unforgivable Curses are simply the most evil spells you human wizards have ever devised."

"They attack the soul, and there's no remedy." His eyes were full of cold mockery. "Do you know why human wizards are the masters of this world?"

"Because they invented the Unforgivable Curses and killed every intelligent creature that refused to submit."

"Ancient goblins were best at crafting precise alchemical objects. They conquered time and created the Time-Turner. They conquered space and created the Vanishing Cabinet. They conquered far, far too many fields."

Pedro shrugged, a cigar clenched between his teeth, looking utterly helpless.

"Then humans conquered the Goblins with the Unforgivable Curses."

"And now, Goblins only know how to mint gold coins."

"The most ridiculous part is this." Pedro sneered. "Human wizards slaughtered every intelligent creature they could find. Once they realized they had no enemies left, they began slaughtering each other."

"Their magic was severed as a result. Later generations of wizards could only pick up things like wands—objects their predecessors had once disdained—and learn the castrated, weakened versions of spells."

"The wisdom of ancient wizards was reduced to scattered fragments in books. Too much magic vanished into the river of history."

"Only the Unforgivable Curses, meant for slaughtering one another, were preserved remarkably well."

Pedro spoke in a sing-song tone. "That is why they are called the Unforgivable Curses: because they cannot be cured, they are unforgivable."

"You've never been to St. Mungo's Hospital, have you? It's packed with patients harmed by the Unforgivable Curses. Not a single one has ever recovered and been discharged."

Anton understood. The Unforgivable Curses were probably like large-caliber firearms—one shot would leave a hole the size of a bowl in someone's body, beyond the reach of any treatment.

But he merely watched the performance coldly.

Once the Goblin had finally finished, Anton simply replied, "But you can cure him. Why don't you just tell me what you need me to do?"

He absolutely refused to fall into this Goblin's hands again, like he had with the Old Wizard.

If the Goblin's demands went too far, he would definitely fire off a spell and switch to escape mode.

"Simple." The Goblin snapped his fingers again. A metallic clanging suddenly rang out from the wall as countless gears and mechanisms shifted rapidly. At last, a bottle no larger than a human pinky flew out from within.

"Put a drop of this into your Teacher's food." He held the glass bottle between his fingers. The liquid inside looked as ordinary as plain water.

Anton refused without hesitation. "No. How could I betray my Teacher?"

The Goblin let out a sinister cackle. "You can only choose between your Teacher and your uncle. Believe me, no one in this world but me can cure him."

Anton fell silent. At last, the information in his mind connected completely. Neville's parents, driven mad by the Cruciatus Curse, had been members of the Order of the Phoenix. If Hogwarts' school healer could truly cure them, how could they possibly have done nothing?

So he hesitated. His eyes reddened as he stared at the Goblin, gritting his teeth. "He's my beloved Teacher!"

The Goblin cackled. "You have no choice."