Snape, Hagrid, and a Brain

Anton ran out of the room and looked back. The entire crooked building, haphazardly cobbled together from wooden planks and iron sheets, swayed as magical light spilled from within.

He did not dare linger and quickly left.

This was the deepest part of Knockturn Alley. Countless tents, shacks, and houses made of branches lay scattered in layers throughout every corner around the great lake.

It looked like a slum.

But it was far more terrifying than any ordinary slum.

A witch who looked mad, muttering to herself, was brewing a pot of strange bubbling green liquid.

Children were playing while clutching several dolls. Looking closer, Anton realized those dolls were actually dried, shrunken people!

Anton had not gone far before he noticed several malicious gazes fixed on him.

One of them was even swaying as it followed him.

"A child carrying gold through a busy market." The saying flashed through his mind. His transmigrated body looked to be around ten years old, and he was dragging a suitcase larger than himself through this dangerous Knockturn Alley. He was especially tempting prey.

Anton thought for a moment, then stopped.

He turned coldly to look at the person following him. The man had huge eyes and an enormous head, but a shriveled body, messy hair, and a mouthful of crooked blackish-yellow teeth.

Then he glanced at the vaguely visible, malice-filled stares in the distance.

With a sneer, he called out loudly, "I am Alex Fiennes's Apprentice. If someone attacks me and makes my Teacher miss his business, he would not mind killing someone!"

As he spoke, the wand in his hand flicked, and the light of a spell exploded on the ground before the big-headed man.

"Imperius Curse!" The big-headed man shrieked and staggered several steps back. He stared at Anton for a moment before slowly retreating step by step into the darkness.

Then, all the spying gazes around him vanished as well.

The Imperius Curse was one of The Three Unforgivable Curses. Even those who did not know Fiennes could tell what sort of person he was from the smooth Dark Magic cast by his Apprentice.

He was someone they could not afford to provoke.

Anton chuckled, looked around with his nostrils practically in the air, his eyes full of arrogance, and continued onward.

No one knew that his back beneath his Wizard Robe was drenched in cold sweat.

That was thrilling!

He did not know a damn thing about the Imperius Curse.

The only spell he had learned, the Soul Transfer Curse, had magical light similar to the Imperius Curse and could easily be mistaken for it.

He followed Knockturn Alley outward. Beyond its entrance was Diagon Alley, and from Diagon Alley he made his way to The Leaky Cauldron.

Anton finally let out a sigh of relief.

Then he was at a loss.

—Where was he supposed to go next?

Hogwarts?

That was impossible. Not only had he not received an acceptance letter from an Owl, he did not even know where the school was.

Should he rent a room at The Leaky Cauldron first?

He had no money. There were probably a few coins in the suitcase, enough to buy ingredients, but he did not dare open it and search through it in a place like this. Aside from the Old Wizard's corpse, there was also a Werewolf whose condition he did not know.

Lupin had not been doing well. Everywhere he went, he was ostracized because of his identity as a Werewolf.

Suddenly, his Heart's Stirring.

The Weasley family!

First, Lupin was their good friend, so they could help him.

Second, although the red hair on his head differed somewhat from the Weasleys', it was not too different. Among Europeans, redheads were Celts, and among wizards, The Weasley family was practically the only one of its kind. Besides, he looked a little like Ron. He could claim to be some distant relative from who knew where.

But then again...

He did not know where they lived either.

"Damn it." Anton looked around blankly, not knowing where in this world he belonged.

But he did not give up.

If he could not find someone to rely on, then he would rely on himself.

He needed to find a way to make some money. That was the most essential condition for surviving.

A few people sat scattered around the tavern. Under the dim lighting, their hushed conversations drifted into his ears, creating a somewhat noisy atmosphere.

Anton examined them one by one, hoping to find an opportunity.

At last, someone with an especially obvious feature appeared before him.

At three and a half meters tall, the giant was impossible to miss.

Thick hair and a messy beard nearly covered his whole face, and he wore a Mole-skin Overcoat.

Could this person be Hagrid?

"Hagrid, your foolish actions caused this situation. Go explain yourself to Dumbledore!" A male wizard beside Hagrid wore a grim expression, his tone somewhat cutting.

Hagrid looked restless. "Professor Snape, I..."

Under Snape's sharp gaze, his lips moved, but in the end, he lowered his head pitifully.

After hesitating for a long while, he shifted in his chair and edged a little closer. "Professor Snape, it can still be saved. Please help me. I can't let Professor Dumbledore be disappointed in me."

Perfect!

It really was Hagrid, and the other one was Snape!

Anton's Heart's Stirring as he rapidly recalled everything he knew about the two of them, trying to find something useful.

First, even if they were willing to help him, they could not take him to Hogwarts.

Also, he could not let either of them know about Lupin's situation. Snape and Lupin were bitter enemies. He could not tell Hagrid alone either; this man was famously "tight-lipped." Snape would know immediately.

It seemed there was only one thing he could do.

Anton carefully looked around, went to a corner, opened a crack in the suitcase, and cautiously peered inside.

The Old Wizard looked thoroughly dead. Perhaps because of the angle at which Anton had stuffed him inside, the dagger had sliced through his neck, nearly severing it completely.

Lupin looked to be in terrible condition. Just one Cruciatus Curse had left him pale and weak, leaning against the corner. When he saw Anton looking in, he gave him a faint smile.

Anton raised a finger. "Shh."

He quickly opened the suitcase, jumped inside, grabbed a glass bottle from the shelf, and rushed back out.

The Old Wizard might have been poor, but he had quite a few treasures on hand.

For example, this Moonlight Turtle's brain was a high-end potion ingredient and essential for brewing Liquid Luck.

It was the sort of thing that had value but no market.

Snape was speaking softly to Hagrid when a small hand suddenly raised a glass jar before him. "Sir, do you need a brain?"

"No." Snape gave it a cold glance, but then his attention was drawn to the brain floating in the liquid inside the jar.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he looked at the skinny Anton. "Ten Sickles."

"!!!" Damn, was he taking advantage of a child? Anton was stunned. "Ten Sickles? Do I look like I can't afford ice cream or candy?"

Snape's cold eyes fixed on Anton. "You are wearing an ill-fitting Wizard Robe. Clearly, your family is poor. You are covered in stains and tears. I can even conclude directly that you are a vagrant."

"This brain is clearly not something you could possess. You stole it, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately, you have no idea what it is. No one in either Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley would buy such a thing."

"Ten Sickles. I have decided to buy it as a collectible."

That was true. If he ran into someone who did not recognize it, this thing really would not fetch much.

But this man was the famous Potion Master.

Ten Sickles? Was he really that stingy?

Anton curled his lip and turned to Hagrid. Although Hagrid was a secretly wealthy man, he clearly had no interest in the Turtle Brain Anton held.

"Heh, the famous Potion Master doesn't even recognize a Moonlight Turtle's brain. Fine, forget it if you don't want it."

He shrugged, hugged the glass jar, and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Snape called from behind him.

Heh. The corner of Anton's mouth lifted slightly.