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"I recognize that look on your face," Aberforth said irritably. "Before you start asking, yes. Now shut up."
Anthony was still in shock. "I didn't know the Headmaster had a brother... Though you do look quite alike, Mr. Dumbledore."
Aberforth glared down at him. "That's an insult, boy. I don't want to look like him."
Anthony immediately realized the Dumbledore brothers had some very complicated relationship, and one standard of a good employee was not prying into the boss's affairs.
The waiter asked, "Ah, why?" He said disappointedly, "I only applied to the Hog's Head because you're the Headmaster's brother."
"And I only hired you, you fool, because you'd drunk Felix Felicis!" Aberforth roared. "You're fired!"
"Well then," the waiter said, still immersed in disappointment that the pub owner didn't respect Headmaster Dumbledore.
When Anthony returned to Hogwarts, curfew had passed. He exited the Room of Requirement and wandered aimlessly through the castle.
Recently the entire castle was immersed in a vaguely anxious atmosphere. He had a feeling he'd catch quite a few night-wandering students tonight.
Though barely mid-February, professors already felt final exams approaching. Professor Burbage suggested he start writing questions soon, Professor McGonagall assigned piles of homework and sometimes even graded essays while drinking tea in the staff room, Snape walked through the castle with a dark face, and Quirrell grew increasingly pale. Anthony sometimes sensed death's aura from him.
He tried warning Professor Quirrell. After hinting several times without effect, Anthony almost bluntly told Professor Quirrell death was approaching him. He didn't say this as a threat, just stating a fact.
Quirrell practically fled.
Anthony thought he might've been frightened, but he really couldn't find better phrasing. If Quirrell couldn't understand "I think Professor Trelawney's words after seeing your teacup had some merit," then "Please take care, I suspect you might truly be dying soon" wasn't a bad attempt.
He encountered his cat while descending stairs.
This fellow had gotten a rat from somewhere and was enthusiastically watching that large rat's panicked left-right scrambling. The cat's temper had truly improved—if it were the old him, this rat would've met death the moment whiskers entered fifteen meters around the cat. After all, Anthony only forbade the skeletal cat from harming people and never managed rats, insects and such.
He walked over and looked. "Is this the Weasleys' pet?"
Because the Weasley twins joined the large group going to the pet rescue station, Anthony learned about their family pet's inheritance customs. They showed him the Weasley family photo, including a pet rat passed secondhand, then secondhand again, then again through the large Weasley family—Scabbers.
But that rat in the photo was too small and couldn't see anything special... The only thing Anthony knew was that male rat was quite long-lived and very large.
The rat before him was indeed very large.
The cat pressed the rat's tail, claw tip pierced through its tail root, and pinned it firmly to the ground. Hearing Anthony's voice, the cat looked up at him as if seeking opinion. The rat struggled awhile, as if finally exhausted, head tilted and fainted.
Anthony hesitated and said, "Let it go." Though he wasn't sure if this was that rat, he'd rather give Filch more trouble than risk killing a first-year Gryffindor's pet.
The cat looked down at the rat, meowed, and released its claws.
"Good cat," Anthony said, crouched down and stroked his cat's smooth fur. Just as the cat circled under his robe hem, that large rat suddenly opened its eyes—as if never fainted—flipped and ran.
Anthony watched it panic down the stairs. Exhausted, its steps staggered and nearly crashed into the wall or rolled down the stairs.
"Quite clever," he said.
Then another cat cry downstairs accompanied by a shrill squeak. Anthony and the cat simultaneously turned toward the staircase below.
He sighed. "No way." If that really was Scabbers, the skeletal cat would claim at least half credit for killing Ron Weasley's pet. At least it pierced the rat's tail.
As soon as Anthony descended, he saw skeletal Mrs. Norris holding a dead rat in her mouth, bulging lamp-like eyes staring at him.
"It's me, not a night-wandering student," Anthony said, crouched and extended his hand toward the cat. "Mrs. Norris, please give me that rat, okay?"
Mrs. Norris bit the rat and stepped back. Anthony's cat darted behind her in several steps and looked at her threateningly. Mrs. Norris looked left and right, dropped the rat on the ground, and left resentfully. Anthony felt somewhat sorry for stealing the gift she prepared for Filch, but overall, he cared more about this rat now.
This rat dead beyond dead. It was now excellent casting material.
Anthony turned it over but still couldn't judge if this was the Weasley family pet. Large rat, yes. Male, correct. Looked somewhat aged, indeed. Long-lived... not necessarily.
He even considered if this really was the Weasley youngest son's beloved pet—reportedly he let the rat sleep on his bed—whether he should control the rat corpse pretending it was still alive, just somehow lost its heartbeat and cold as ice.
The Weasley twins ended his distress. They unfortunately encountered Anthony returning from the Forbidden Forest to the castle ("Bloody hell!"), and after surrendering ten house points, they held the rat and told Anthony this definitely wasn't Scabbers.
"It's bigger than this," Fred said.
"Missing a toe," George said.
"And sleek and shiny."
"Lazy good-for-nothing."
"Would never run around if it could lie down."
In short, this unfortunate deceased athlete had nothing to do with the Weasley family.
"Excellent, back to your dormitory, Weasleys," Anthony said.
He wandered the castle holding the dead rat and tried finding Mrs. Norris to return her gift, but cats were always like this—when someone tried finding them, they'd disappear without a trace.
When the sky gradually brightened, Anthony decided to dispose of this corpse. He didn't plan using it as his own material... No matter how large the rat, it was too small for him and really couldn't serve much purpose. But Hogwarts had no suitable garbage disposal point and he also didn't plan letting people discover a charcoal-roasted rat in the fireplace.
He suddenly had an inspiration, carried the rat to Barnabas's tapestry, and started pacing before the white wall.
Give me a passage to the castle's underground rat corpse collection point... Give me a passage to the castle's underground rat corpse collection point... Give me a passage to the castle's underground rat corpse collection point...
A door appeared on the wall.
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