Chapter 94 What Is the Price?

Coming out of Dumbledore's office, the sky has quietly turned dark.

Anton came to the restaurant on the first floor of the castle. He was a little hungry.

The restaurant was very lively, everyone was talking about the giant monster, and many people gathered around the long table in Gryffindor, listening to Ron's vivid story about his heroic deeds.

Harry looked shy, but after seeing Draco watching them jealously from a distance, he joined in the telling.

Hermione apparently reconciled with the two, sitting aside and listening to their embellishment, curling her lips.

According to the past, she would reprimand such a complacent attitude for violating school discipline.

Anyway, it was very lively.

But the excitement is theirs.

Anton came to Slytherin's long table with a huge book in his arms, found a corner where no one was around, and enjoyed the food quietly.

Basically as long as he has a book, no one will actively disturb him.

Especially for the lower grade Slytherins, this is the rule.

Anton is known for being more of a Ravenclaw than a Ravenclaw when it comes to reading.

Of course, this one was more Slytherin than Slytherin if someone bothered him to read.

"It's nothing special, right?" Draco said to Anton very displeased, well, cute roommates always have some privileges.

"The mountain troll is the most powerful of the humanoid creatures like trolls. Obviously, my little cousin has good courage and great strength." Anton said with a smile.

"Damn, I can't bear to listen to his smug words." Draco rolled his eyes and left with his two followers.

Anton chuckled and ignored him.

Snapped.

A hand lightly patted his shoulder.

"..."

Anton was silent for a moment, then raised his head, it was Professor Quirrell.

"Also...maybe...maybe we can...talk...talk about it."

What the hell is it really Professor Quirrell?

Anton pointed to the huge book next to him, "I need to go back to the dormitory and put this away, after all, it's inconvenient to walk with it."

Quirrell twitched the corners of his mouth, trying hard to express a little kindness, "It's okay, it's okay, eat slowly, eat slowly, come to me later... I... my office."

Anton nodded with a smile.

Quirrell walked to the professor's position, and Anton squinted at his back.

He will never forget that this scumbag, Quilo, was planning to kill himself at that time, just last night, how long has it been, how could he forget!

Are you still looking for yourself now?

And still in a flattering tone?

Anton's brain was working fast.

After returning to the dormitory, Anton put the magic book in a small box by the windowsill.

This was probably the safest place he could think of, and Slytherin's dormitories rarely had records of being infiltrated.

Moreover, there is a cute little plant under the window sill.

Draco had once complained to Anton not to put these dangerous plants in the bedroom, and after a friendly and cordial exchange, he readily agreed.

This lovely roommate adheres to the principle of "join if you can't beat it", and also puts a box by the windowsill to store gadgets that he doesn't want others to know.

"It will protect my case too, right?"

Anton nodded with a smile, "I don't mind sharing."

Therefore, the task of feeding the small plants with meat and blood twice a week fell on Gore.

Both are very satisfied and win-win.

After taking a shower and changing his clothes, Anton adjusted his mentality and came to Professor Quirrell's office slowly.

"Are you looking for me?" Anton sat on the chair in front of the desk rudely.

If Voldemort hadn't parasitized behind Quirrell's head, Anton would definitely find a way to kill and maim this girl now.

Don't think that he only has the means of black magic, his experience in potions is his real trump card.

Instant death, sudden death a month later, paralysis, feigned death into a vegetable, missing arms and legs...

You can choose from various packages.

When the old wizard's potion research direction is to save lives and heal the wounded?

Anton can definitely guarantee that these potions taste first-class and can be sweet.

In terms of taste, Anton thought he was better than the old wizard and Snape!

Quirrell didn't mind his rudeness, he looked at Anton fixedly, and the two were silent for a long time.

Compared with patience, Quirrell obviously found the wrong person.

Anton could sit with him forever.

If a person doesn't have to eat and shit, he can sit opposite Quirrell for at least a year. He is such a resilient person.

"I want you to help me," Quirrell said.

Obviously, people and ghosts are acting these days, and he is actually not that frightened and stuttering.

Anton didn't answer, just lowered his head and continued to play with his fingers.

"I want you to help me, that three-headed dog, I saw it, you have a way to deal with it! I also need someone to look out and help me block all emergencies!"

Anton then raised his eyelids and stared at him coldly, "You wanted to kill me at the time, did you think I would help you?"

"You must help me!" Quirrell's voice rose, "Dark Demon..."

He paused, clenched his fists hard, stood up, and looked down at Anton, "I didn't mean to! I was terrified at the time, Snape was so powerful, I had to get the things in that room, I It was very hopeless."

He trembled his lips, "You don't know how desperate I was!"

"Hehe." Anton sneered, lowered his head and continued playing with his fingers.

Create a reasonable reason for his behavior, put himself in the perspective of a weak person, and focus on describing how helpless he is to do this-this elementary method, he has long since stopped playing.

As his strength increased step by step, he was getting a little tired of this kind of deception of wronging himself.

Play this trick in front of me?

You are still a little tender.

Quirrell walked around behind the desk, finally staring at him, "You've got to help me, I mean, I've taught you so much!"

Anton was still playing with his fingers.

I sneered in my heart.

Is that what you taught?

That's Voldemort, you taught me a dick!

However, it also reminded him that obtaining the Philosopher's Stone was Voldemort's inevitable goal. Now that he had come to this point, he could no longer get away with a simple complaint.

Some things, there is no room for negotiation.

"Everything has a price, professor, you have taught me so much, and you planned to kill me before, the grievances have long been settled."

He couldn't play Voldemort, and he couldn't play this guy?

Ah?

If you want to help you, yes, or if you really bring the Dark Lord out, let's help right away without saying a word.

If you dare not, then show some sincerity!

Quirrell was very unwilling, he stretched out his hand to touch the scarf, hesitated for a moment or put down his hand, just said blindly, "You must help me!"

"Then..." Anton said quietly, "What is the price?"

"!!!"

Quirrell was stunned, and screamed, and his sharp tone echoed in the office, "You actually asked me for benefits, do you know, we are doing it for..."