Anton left Gringotts feeling much lighter.
A Copper Pendant for his Goblin Wallet hung around his neck, with his Vault key threaded onto it.
A shoulder bag hung across his chest, holding the Old Wizard's diary from his apprentice days.
He was still carrying a suitcase, but at least he could breathe easier. Hauling everything he owned through the danger-filled Wizarding World had weighed heavily on him.
Anton carried his suitcase back to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and bought a Dragon Hide backpack.
These were necessary expenses.
The backpack held about as much as an elementary schooler's schoolbag. He planned to buy some proper magic books. If he couldn't teach himself, Lupin could use them as references once he recovered.
At Flourish and Blotts, Anton asked the owner about the First Year Hogwarts textbooks. After some deliberation, he chose three: Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, Magical Theory, and Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.
He was interested in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and Magical Drafts and Potions too, but both were far too thick and heavy.
Those three books alone cost four Gold Galleons.
And these were introductory books for beginners. Knowledge in the Wizarding World always came at a steep price.
Only magical schools like Hogwarts had such complete collections of magic books and let people read them for free.
Anton imagined that if he ever got the chance to study there, he would bring a blanket to the Library and move right in.
At Ollivander's Wand Shop, he bought a Wand that suited his hand. Spells worked far better with it than with a secondhand Wand.
What else did he need?
Wizarding Robes from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions?
The prices there were ridiculous. Anton already had Wizarding Robes, even if they didn't fit.
I need to save my money!
An orphan in his previous life, Anton knew better than anyone how to rein in the urge to spend.
Unless he wanted to sell the precious Potion Ingredients the Old Wizard had left behind, all this income-less Young Wizard had were the few hundred Gold Galleons Hagrid had given him.
Besides Lupin's tuition, attending a magic school someday would cost a fortune too.
Yet he ended up at Quality Quidditch Supplies anyway.
Private transport was too expensive in the Wizarding World. Better to get himself a motorcycle to travel on.
Especially one that didn't need fuel.
Flying Broomsticks for Quidditch were clearly young Wizards' favorite products. As Anton reached the entrance, he saw a crowd of children gathered there, crying out over an exquisite Flying Broomstick in the window.
A small wooden sign beside it bore the model's name: Nimbus 2000.
The children were practically drooling. Their parents exchanged wry smiles behind them; this expensive luxury was clearly beyond the means of an ordinary family.
Anton had no intention of buying something that looked so costly. Anything that flew would do.
But once he went inside, he asked anyway.
"Just released. Only four hundred Gold Galleons," the shopkeeper said with a delighted smile.
"!!!"
Anton was stunned. He'd thought he was loaded, but he'd never imagined a broom could cost that much!
What are you, a Ferrari?
Forget it. I might as well ride a motorcycle.
The Flying Broomsticks on the shelves were arranged by series.
The Nimbus Series, the Comet Series, and the Cleansweep Series.
The shopkeeper had clearly noticed that this Young Wizard meant to buy something and enthusiastically began describing the Nimbus 1000's performance.
Anton glanced at the older model's price, and his mouth twitched. "Boss, these series don't look very cool. What's that one hanging over there?"
The shop also had plenty of individual models besides the three major series.
"Oakshaft 79. Excellent durability and resistance to strong winds. It doesn't fly too fast either, so it's especially suited to a Young Wizard like you."
Anton cut him off. "So this Broomstick flies slowly?"
The shopkeeper shrugged. "It's safer."
Heh. If I get on a Broomstick, it'll be to travel across countries or run for my life. And you're telling me slow is safe?
Anton shook his head. "I want the fastest one!"
The shopkeeper's whiskers twitched. The greasy middle-aged man gave him a leering grin and raised his eyebrows. "You're still young. You wouldn't understand. A man shouldn't be too fast."
Seriously?!
Is it appropriate to make dirty jokes to a kid?
Seeing Anton's face darken, the shopkeeper sheepishly moved to another broom. "Tinderblast. Very fast, but it lacks power when climbing, so you'll feel a noticeable stall."
Each individual model had its own problems and shortcomings. Since he might have to rely on it to escape someday, Anton finally chose a Cleansweep Eight from the Cleansweep Series.
It was a sporting Flying Broomstick suitable for travel. More importantly, it was one of the Broomsticks commonly used in Quidditch, so its performance was reliable.
P.S. The impoverished Weasley family traveled on Cleansweep Series brooms. Although the original story never stated the price, every family member had one, so they couldn't be that expensive.
The Cleansweep Series ran from One to Nine, with each new model offering a significant improvement in performance.
The Eight alone had one serious problem: it was short.
Standing upright, it was about Anton's height.
"Oh, you don't want it too short, you know. For just a little more, you could get the latest Cleansweep Nine..." The shopkeeper was about to keep running his mouth, but Anton firmly refused.
"Grab it, straddle it, and whoosh, you're flying." The shopkeeper gripped a Broomstick and gave his hips a wiggle as he explained in his trademark greasy tone. "Simple. No technique needed, unless you're planning to play Quidditch."
By the time Anton returned to the Leaky Cauldron, night had quietly fallen.
After enjoying a delicious meal, Anton glanced out at the pitch-black night, picked up his luggage, and prepared to leave.
"Young Wizards shouldn't go out in the middle of the night. There are all sorts of dangers after dark. You might run into an evil Dark Wizard, a vicious Werewolf, or a spine-chilling ghost." Old Tom, the proprietor, tried to dissuade him in the tone one used with children.
Anton smiled and shook his head.
It was another lesson from his dead teacher: people went out by day and slept at night. So if you wanted to do something bad without being seen, you did it at night.
As long as you overcame your natural fear of the dark, you could avoid most of the unpredictable trouble that came with the daytime crowds.
And he did intend to do something bad.
He was going to dispose of his dead teacher's body without a trace.
Outside the pub, he mounted his Flying Broomstick. He was still clumsy on it, but he managed to drift up into the sky and search for a suitable place.
After flying for well over half an hour, Anton finally spotted somewhere that looked very familiar.
A lumberjack's Cabin in a Forest outside the city.
The Old Wizard had destroyed it with a spell before. Judging by the marks on the ground, no one had come by since.
Anton opened his suitcase, dragged the Old Wizard out, and laid him on the ground. Then he took the potion Goblin Pedro had given him from his pocket and slowly poured it into his mouth.
At once, deep in his mind, he felt the binding of the Unbreakable Vow fall away.
Anton watched the corpse intently and backed away slowly, gripping his Flying Broomstick.
Goblin Pedro clearly hadn't been as kind as he'd claimed. He hadn't merely used a hallucinatory potion to put the Old Wizard to sleep for a while.
Sure enough, a strange cloud of gray smoke emerged from the corpse's mouth.
Boom!
The Old Wizard's head ignited like gunpowder touched by a lighter, erupting in a great burst of Deep Blue flame.
Flames splashed everywhere, corroding and burning the grass around him.
Soon, the headless corpse caught fire too.
The flames looked deeply unnatural. They gave off no heat, yet they kept setting flesh and wild grass alight. In moments, all that remained was a little fine, dark-gray sand.
"Damn..." Anton stared in shock at the small Glass Bottle in his hand. A third of the potion remained inside.
He screwed the cap on tight and carefully put it back in his pocket.
It was practically the Wizarding World's version of corpse-dissolving acid.
Incredible!
Just then, dark-green threads of light rose from the fine sand left by the Old Wizard's corpse.
They wove together in midair, forming a bizarre pattern of squares, curves, and Runes.
"Holy shit!" Anton understood at once. He'd actually been right: even after his head was cut off, the Old Wizard hadn't truly died.
Boom!
White's Hand, which Anton had left atop the suitcase to deal with later, suddenly blazed with a dark-green, spider-shaped light.
It exploded.
The blast reached a full two meters, punching straight through the suitcase and gouging a deep crater in the ground.
The dark-green magic array overhead wove and turned, warping the air. The faint outline of a crooked little building appeared in midair.
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