The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Anthony said calmly: If your goal is to cultivate predators, then who are the prey, Snape? Those who are not outstanding enough, whose background is not prominent enough, or those students who are not cultivated according to the image of predators. Other colleges s student?

Snape twisted his lips and said softly: I don't care. He turned around suddenly and began to clean his potion making table, throwing various materials back into bottles, jars, and boxes.

A clear eviction order.

Anthony sighed: I don't want to argue with you, Snape. That's not my intention. Yes, I don't know Slytherin, and I don't know what you are facing, but at least... at least... He hesitated.

At least not while Roger Davis was worrying about flying Quaffles while his sister was experiencing severe anxiety issues?

At least it doesn't allow those students who think they are superior to bully their classmates unscrupulously?

At least give some attention to struggling students?

He finally said: At least, I can try. This is a school, not a colosseum... If they have to fight no matter what in the future, I hope the students can at least have some warm memories. He said from the bottom of his heart Said, That's very important to a person.

Of course, please do, Snape said in a flat, unconcerned tone.

Anthony said: Do you have enough happy memories, Snape? Is the power from Slytherin enough to support you in releasing a Patronus?

Snape immediately turned around, his black robes drawing a sharp arc in the air due to his violent movements, and his dark eyes were deep and hollow. He stared at Anthony and whispered, It's none of your business.

Anthony shrugged, Just curious. You know, top graduate interviews and stuff like that.

The door to the Potions Master's office opened with a bang. Snape gritted his teeth, gripped his arm tightly, and pushed Anthony out of the door.

You are too curious, said Snape.

boom. The door closed in front of Anthony's nose.

Anthony said to a spider crawling on the wall, Okay.

…

The castle was silent late at night. As he walked up from the cellar, he could even hear the sound of the black lake lapping against the castle walls.

Anthony mused. He needed more information to know why.

His cat glanced lazily at him as he entered and meowed softly. Anthony sighed, hugged the cat, and buried his face in its soft fur: I seem to be causing trouble for myself...

The cat rarely allowed himself to be held patiently.

Anthony raised his head and smoothed the cat's fur: Okay, thank you. He opened a bottle of wine for the cat. He bought this from the bar he usually went to when he came back from Christmas vacation. The very familiar aroma of wine filled his bedroom, almost like he was home again.

The cat jumped to the ground and rubbed a satisfied circle around his legs. Anthony turned it back into the skeleton cat - and at the same time confirmed that he had really closed the door - washed himself casually, and then fell back on the bed.

The flame in the cat's food bowl burns steadily, like a night light.

…

Perhaps because he went to bed too late and thought too much, Anthony felt a little unenergetic when he woke up.

He originally planned to go to the library on the weekend to study flesh magic for a while, try to combine it with undead magic, and bring the Wraith Chicken to the school as soon as possible - he really needed someone who didn't scream by scratching his paws hard. He gets up with pets. But it was rare that he didn't really want to go to the library today.

This mood of laziness was so rare for Anthony that he decided, almost out of novelty, to give in to the impulse. So he hesitated after washing, looked at the weather - it was gloomy as always - and planned to take a walk inside the castle.

Going out? he asked the cat.

The cat twitched its ears, turned over, rolled itself up, and fell asleep again.

Anthony smiled, touched it, closed the door and went out. In the bathroom, Moaning Myrtle was weeping sadly again. The almost headless Nick was trying to comfort her, but he was half exposed from the wall, maintaining a posture of being ready to leave at any time.

Myrtle cried loudly: They - they went right through me -

Yeah, yeah. Nearly Headless Nick said angrily, It's like we haven't experienced it.

Good morning, Myrtle, said Anthony, holding the door open. Good morning, Sir Nicholas. I hope all is well?

Nick seemed very happy that he had come and greeted loudly: Oh, good morning, Professor Anthony. Where are you going?

He acted like even if Anthony said he wanted to ask Professor McGonagall to dance, he would say that he wanted to go too.

Anthony said, Just walking around and looking around the castle. He added understandingly, Together?

Nick said gratefully: Of course, I am very familiar with Hogwarts... Myrtle, you heard me, I have something to do now -

And you, Myrtle, with you? asked Anthony.

Moaning Myrtle sat on the sink and sobbed: No—I'll never go out again, I'll never go out again!

Nearly Headless Nick explains: She went out this morning and a couple of students walked through her... I mean, like every ghost does, and then she... He shook his head and did not continue.

A few students! cried Myrtle. A few students! That's more than ten people! Of course, this is far from enough. How can it be enough? Everyone should do this! Let us get out of her body Come on over, it's so much fun! Get in line, London Bridge is collapsing, it's collapsing!

She sang as if instead of London Bridge falling down, Hogwarts fell down.

Anthony said sympathetically, I'm sure you're angry.

Angry, of course! said Myrtle, taking a deep breath and beginning to cry again, but they—they—laughed at me—

Nearly headless Nick sighed impatiently: They are not laughing at you, they are just discussing the notice!

What notice? Anthony asked doubtfully.

What are you studying? Nick replied, A lot of students are gathered over there, professor, I can take you there. He hurriedly drifted out.

Myrtle stopped crying and stared at Anthony.

Anthony said: If you don't want to come along, I completely understand. Maybe in the future we can go for a walk together at night? I guarantee that there won't be any students who pass you recklessly then.

If so, he would have caught a few more students traveling at night.

Myrtle whispered, I don't want to walk with the Professor.

Anthony said funnyly: Okay, but you can still go out at night and see if any students who make you angry are wandering around at night.

Myrtle imagined the scene and chuckled.

I will, she said. I will scream. Then she lost herself in fanciful revenge and schadenfreude.

Anthony wondered if he had made a bad suggestion.

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--Dividing line--

Please don’t worry about the impact of negative reviews on my writing in the book review section. I don’t really care about negative reviews of books, even if the words are harsh, it’s okay. The reason for the negative review is that I clicked on this simple fanfic. It’s just a matter of different tastes. There will always be people who like cats.