Time slowly passed. The night, which usually seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, felt unbearably long now.
Ilsa gradually stopped crying. She forced herself to look at the Werewolf, trying to get used to the sight of Lupin transformed into a Beast.
"It isn't easy." Anton kept staring at the Werewolf's arm. Beside him, Light-and-Shadow Recording Magic flickered, its tangled lines looking like a hopeless snarl.
"My teacher—the Ghost you've seen, the one at my house—is named Alex Fiennes."
"I had to summon the greatest effort and resolve of my life to accept a Ghost."
"He especially liked drifting past behind me when I was looking in the mirror, or just staring at me without blinking. After that, anything reflective scared me. I thought that if I looked at it, I'd see a headless Ghost in it."
"That sounds like a terrible experience."
Ilsa could picture how terrifying that must have been and felt a little sorry for him. "What happened after that? How did you end up living together?"
Anton turned to look at her and grinned. "I accepted him, and we got along well."
Ilsa clasped her arms tightly and looked at Anton with determination. "I can do that too."
Anton shrugged. "I look forward to it."
"Poor Lupin is so lonely. He was bitten by a Werewolf when he was very young. If Great Dumbledore hadn't given him the chance to study at Hogwarts, he might never have had a single friend."
Ilsa's eyes lit up. "Will you tell me about Lupin? Like, who his friends were? I'll get along with them just fine—as Lupin's wife."
Anton snickered, wearing a thoroughly unkind grin. "Dead. They died horribly. And another one was sent to Azkaban, where he's supposed to stay until he dies of