Moony

Anton finally understood the exact purpose of the Soul Transfer Curse.

As the spell activated, he felt as though a massive hook had caught him by the forehead and dragged him forward along the spell's beam of light.

Then, like a fish returning to water, he plunged back in, and the pulling sensation eased once more.

After a brief daze, he felt his body in shock.

An extremely aged, frail sensation rose from deep within him. He struggled to look ahead and saw a young wizard standing before him.

That was himself!

He had actually swapped bodies with the old wizard!

Only then did he finally see clearly what the body he had transmigrated into looked like.

He had red hair, a little lighter than the Weasleys' hair he had seen in Diagon Alley today, with a platinum sheen. Light blue eyes and pale skin.

Other than lacking freckles, he actually looked a little like Ron!

Relatives?

Anton did not know, but he finally understood why Ron had kept staring at him.

Before he could inspect himself more closely, an overwhelming emptiness flooded his heart. It was as if a hugely stretched rubber band had suddenly snapped him back into his own body.

When he opened his eyes again, the old wizard strode over and poured a cup of fruit wine into his mouth.

The old wizard looked at him as if he were some priceless treasure. "Hehehe, you will be my finest apprentice. With talent like yours, you are simply too useful."

What did "too useful" mean?

Still, the old wizard's attitude toward him had improved considerably. He even kindly told him to rest in a small bedroom on the first floor.

Except he took back the Old Wand.

Anton slept for two full days before he finally recovered somewhat.

A faint stabbing pain still lingered in his mind. He guessed it was because he had cast magic beyond his own capabilities.

He could feel how weak he was and desperately wanted to lie back down and sleep some more.

But he could not. He had been hungry for two days. If he did not cook, he would starve to death.

The old wizard had apparently just returned from outside, carrying the faint scent of lamb chops and beer.

That only made Anton feel even hungrier.

With a sigh, he stopped hoping the old wizard would give him a decent meal. He simply cooked himself a bowl of knife-shaved noodles and squatted beside the stove, eating until sweat poured down his face.

Sure enough, sleep and food were the best ways for a person to recover.

Feeling much more alert, he had barely stepped out of the kitchen when the sharp-eyed old wizard grabbed him again and made him sort through the herbs piled in the corner.

"Sanguine Grass only needs the leaves. Pick through them carefully. Not a trace of root can get mixed in."

The old wizard's eyes gleamed with mockery. "Believe me, you definitely do not want to die from massive blood loss after drinking the potion."

Anton stared at him. "This is for me?"

"After sorting it, grind it together with Spotted Tiger Grass, then pour it into Fire Salamander blood. Once it boils, toss this leech in." The old wizard burped, stretched lazily, and swayed as he grabbed the stair railing.

"Hurry up, damn it. You have already wasted two days of my time. If we run out of time, you are dead."

The old wizard muttered as he headed upstairs.

Anton curled his lip. If he was so worried about time, why not do it himself?

This potion was for him to drink? Looking at all the bizarre ingredients, he felt a chill run down his spine.

There was even a cage of rats and several caterpillars in it.

This was not the first time he had drunk a potion. Once, Anton had drunk some strange, gooey concoction and broken out in blisters all over his body, nearly dying of dehydration.

"I have to be patient."

Anton took a deep breath. He could not panic. Once he panicked, he would make mistakes.

This old wizard was no good man. In the past two months alone, Anton had watched him kill seven or eight people.

Would he kill Anton? There was no need to even question it. This dark wizard had already killed more than one apprentice, and once, the reason had simply been that he was in a bad mood.

Putting on gloves, Anton silently ground the herbs.

Bit by bit, he mashed the fear and killing intent in his heart into pulp and buried them deep within himself.

The complexity of this potion far exceeded Anton's imagination.

It involved preparing over thirty different medicinal ingredients. Some had to be dried under the sun, while others had to be burned into ash.

There were even intervals where it had to sit for one day, then three days.

The old wizard found a large metal cross and bound the Middle-aged Man to it with chains. "Tomorrow is the Full Moon Night. You do not have much time left."

Those words were not addressed to the Werewolf, but to Anton.

Anton lowered his head without a word, silently stirring the potion with the Old Wand. He could feel his magic being drawn bit by bit from the wand into the cauldron of liquid.

Thick bubbles rose from the dark green potion. Under the influence of magic, threads of pale red slowly spread through it.

While maintaining the output of his magic, he considered the only spell he knew: the Soul Transfer Curse.

Having read the novels, he knew the incantations for several spells, but he did not know the hand gestures or what emotions were required to cast them.

He did not even know whether every spell required emotion. That itself was a question.

Then could the Soul Transfer Curse be used directly as an attack?

What if he cast it on the old wizard again, and the instant he entered the other man's body, grabbed the knife from the table and slit his own throat?

He did not know whether that would result in his own death while the old wizard entered his body and gained a new life.

Anton knew far too little about magic.

At last, the potion was fully prepared.

Only a smear of transparent pale red liquid remained at the bottom of the pot, dotted with dark green specks that glittered like stars. It looked beautiful.

"Haha!" The old wizard grinned at the potion.

"For such high quality, the person brewing it must be filled with malice." His expression was half teasing, half mocking.

"Only intense malice can produce such perfect quality." The old wizard praised him as he drew his wand.

"So, what should I reward you with?"

"Cruciatus Curse!" The spell's light rolled swiftly through the air and struck Anton in the chest in an instant.

There was simply no time to react.

Countless tiny knives slashed wildly inside his body.

Anton let out a shrill scream.

"Urgh..." He gripped the gaps between the floorboards with all his strength, gritting his teeth to keep himself from crying out again.

His gaze fixed on the floor turned utterly cold.

"Expelliarmus!"

The Old Wand flew from Anton's hand and landed in the old wizard's.

"You should learn to accept fate's arrangements and behave yourself."

Whistling, the old wizard walked to his desk and sat down, gathering his manuscripts and placing them into a suitcase.

He turned toward the Middle-aged Man. "There is only one final step left. Haha, my experiment is about to be complete."

The Middle-aged Man looked at Anton sprawled on the floor and sighed. "You should not treat a child like that."

"Haha." The old wizard laughed. "How rare. You were captured by me because you wanted to attack a young wizard."

"No. After I transform into a Werewolf, I cannot control myself at all. I myself had no ill intentions." Pain flickered in the Middle-aged Man's eyes. "I had locked myself up, but someone tampered with things, opened my door, and deliberately let me out to harm people."

The old wizard whistled. "Very good. You have moved me."

"I have decided to record your name in the experimental notes, as a reward for your contribution to this great experiment. What is your name?"

The Middle-aged Man gave a self-mocking smile. "Moony."

"A wonderful name." The old wizard picked up a quill with a smile.

Anton, lying on the ground and twitching, suddenly had his eyes light up.

Moony?

Was that not Lupin?

This man was no weakling. Anyone Dumbledore had chosen for the Order of the Phoenix was no simple character.

Then he might need a wand!