Fiennes, avoiding old acquaintances in his ghostly form, left him. Anton, understanding the need for discretion, landed in a secluded spot, buried his broom, and asked Fiennes to watch it.
"Hoohoho~" Anton's hoarse throat let out a grotesque laugh. Grabbing a tree branch for a crutch, he swayed towards the crypt, wand gripped tightly in his robe. Dark magic, he knew, offered more intimidation here than light.
As he walked, he mentally prepared for 'Sectumsempra,' ensuring he could cast it reliably instead of instinctively resorting to the Cruciatus Curse. 'Seriously, this is a terrible habit. One wrong twitch of the wrist and I'll be sharing a cell with dementors!'
Becoming an Animagus was another crucial goal. It offered his only escape should he ever find himself imprisoned there.
Rounding a massive stone, he found a cave entrance pulsing with eerie purple light and blaring heavy metal. Strange creatures—one-armed centaurs, pack-laden goblins, and snake-dog-pulled witch wheelchairs—converged and disappeared inside.
Then, behind his mask, his eyes narrowed. Snape. Even masked, his greasy hair was unmistakable.
"Hehehe," Anton chuckled softly, then shambled unsteadily after him.
The purple-lit corridor spiraled into a small stone hall. A colossal giant sat beside a narrow passage, its gray thighs visible beneath. Before it stood a wizard in a heavy metal leather jacket over his robes.
The leather-clad wizard tapped a wooden board with his wand, announcing, "Welcome to the Enchanted Melodies Music Hall!"
Anton blinked, bewildered. The old man had called this a coffee shop a decade ago. Now, under new management, he wondered if they even accepted regular currency anymore.
The leather-clad wizard boomed, "Attention, wanderers! Yellow bouquet for physical items, fee ensures no competitors. Red bouquet for non-physical transactions, find Eric at the bar for a confidential space. Golden bouquet for Enchanted Melodies members: exclusive privileges.""
Anton chuckled, "Is this a forum?"
The wizard, initially startled, burst into laughter. "Merlin's ripped panties! You're the first to figure it out." He handed Anton a golden bouquet. "Congratulations, you're a member! You now have access to the lower concert hall."
"Ha-ha!" Anton shrugged. "So, privileges then?" They exchanged knowing smiles and moved on.
He found this fascinating. He'd always considered the wizarding world stuck in staid traditions, far behind the times, especially for 1989. As a former coder, he felt an immediate connection with the wizard.
"Boy, I like you," He chuckled, stumbling down the aisle.
The hall buzzed, few held golden bouquets; Snape was among them. They descended into an immense, multi-platform cave, expanded from lava formations. High above, a band played rhythm-less heavy metal.
As the crowd dispersed, Anton trailed Snape to a corner where golden-bouquet holders gathered around a circular platform and lava-formed seating. Snape found a quiet spot; Anton kept his distance.
Soon, the area filled. A wizard in a golden leather jacket led another person, Pete, onto the circular platform. "Welcome to the exclusive roundtable at the Enchanted Melodies Concert Hall!" the wizard announced, gesturing to Pete, "our esteemed host for today's roundtable." With a snap of his fingers, a bubbling rock protrusion behind him vanished with a 'poof,' revealing a large iron cage draped in black cloth.
He gestured to Pete, then gracefully leapt from the platform, settling on a nearby stone. Pete, a thin, stubbled young man with shoulder-length blond hair and sunken blue eyes, radiated nervous energy.
Rubbing his hands, Pete addressed the crowd, "I'm sure you've all heard the rumors." A collective hush fell. "You-know-who didn't die, but has been recuperating in Albania, biding his time."
The crowd erupted in uproar, whispers filling the air. A bearded strongman rose excitedly, pointing to the veiled cage behind Pete. "Don't tell me, this is..."
A sudden whoosh of air filled the room. Even Pete, visibly startled, waved his hands frantically, "How dare you say that, no, no!"
Anton heard numerous relieved sighs. He glanced at Snape, sitting diagonally opposite, but the man remained impassive, seemingly unshaken by the commotion.
He refocused on the roundtable and Pete.
When he first arrived, didn't know the rules, so he accidentally let an Azkaban prisoner, who was apparently a potion-making enthusiast, loose. Instead of yelling, Fiennes just made him drink the potion meant for Pete. So he subsequently experienced three days of blood-vomiting, weightlessness, and seeing stars—an unforgettable experience.
He hadn't seen Pete in two months. Now, the little guinea pig looked energetic, "like a dog."