Due to his passion for learning, Anton did not find himself isolated by his classmates; instead, he became the most popular individual.
The reason?
The volume of homework assigned for each class.
The morning classes were relatively relaxed compared to those later in the day. A single extended class session (lasting two hours) was held in the morning. Apart from Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape's classes, there was a brief break of over ten minutes between lessons.
However, such breaks was exclusive to those classes.
In the afternoon, two extensive classes were scheduled, followed by a shorter evening session lasting one hour.
Throughout Monday to Friday mornings, classes were jam-packed with homework for each subjects.
Anton found it perplexing how Gryffindor students managed to embark on nighttime excursions amidst their rigorous academic schedule.
His understanding deepened when Ron, following a disagreement with Hermione, sought out Anton to copy his homework for his friends, including Harry, Neville, Seamus, and others. This practice was commonplace at the school, with Anton's assignments often circulating through Ron and Draco for nearly half a year.
Theoretical knowledge among these young wizards was seemingly lacking, yet the impact was minimal. The Weasley twins informed Anton that the First-year final exam would solely focus on spellcasting.
Anton held a genuine fondness for every subject:
Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class was captivating.
Professor Flitwick's Charms class was enthralling.
Professor Sprout's Herbology class was engaging.
...
Even Flying class held a special place in Anton's heart.
He frequently visited the library to borrow books of interest, enabling him to delve into his studies with undisturbed focus when Madam Hooch posed challenges during class.
This routine persisted, with Flying classes brimming with inquiries from the very first lesson.
Madam Hooch uttered a few words before Neville was unexpectedly lifted into the air by the broom, resulting in an injury. Taking charge, Madam Hooch personally escorted Neville to the Hospital Wing, leaving the eager students with the brooms.
Subsequently, Draco and Harry soared into the sky, much to the amazement of onlookers.
This routine continued until one day when the head of Slytherin, Professor Snape, summoned Anton to his office.
"Anthony Weasley," Snape's voice resonated through the room as he unfurled a lengthy parchment, his gaze fixed on the young wizard.
"You may call me Anton, my Idol," Anton responded with a warm smile, attempting to ease the tension with a touch of light-heartedness.
Snape's lips twitched imperceptibly, a brief flicker of amusement crossing his expression before his demeanor hardened. "Stop with the silly name and address me as Professor Snape." he instructed, his tone firm and commanding.
"Of course, Professor Snape," Anton replied respectfully, meeting the professor's piercing gaze obediently.
Under normal circumstances, Snape's focus was primarily on Harry Potter, making it unlikely for him to pay attention to Anton.
However, a noticeable shift occurred as Snape's demeanor betrayed a rare display of agitation, his usual composed facade crumbling as he paced restlessly around his desk.
Bringing his pacing to a sudden halt, Snape fixed his piercing gaze on Anton, the dim light catching the subtle sway of his long, greasy hair as he confronted the young wizard.
"But it's blatantly against the rules to have been chosen as the Quidditch Seeker by McGonagall. We cannot permit a first-year student to undertake such a role." Snape voiced his disapproval, his tone laced with authority and frustration.
Anton listened attentively, acknowledging Snape's concerns with a thoughtful nod. "I heard Professor McGonagall got Harry Potter a permit from Dumbledore and even bought him a Nimbus 2000. That's really nice of her." he remarked, offering a perspective that shed light on the circumstances at hand.
As Anton continued to speak, Snape's expression darkened, a steely glint entering his eyes as he prepared to interject.
"Clearly, Harry Potter possesses exceptional talent..." Anton began, only to be abruptly cut off by Snape's sharp command.
"Silence!" Snape's bark reverberated through the office, his tone breaking no argument as he silenced Anton's words with a stern authority.
Caught off guard by Snape's sudden outburst, Anton met his head of house's intense gaze with a mixture of helplessness and resignation, raising his hands in surrender.
The two locked eyes, a subtle shift in Snape's expression hinted at an unpleasant realization creeping over him. Through clenched teeth, he stressed, "Slytherin cannot afford to lose at Quidditch; it is our house's glory!"
Is that so, sir?
Anton maintained a serene smile, opting to remain silent.
"I have closely observed your flying skills," Snape continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "Your skill at casting spells while flying on a broom is undeniable."
Confusion flickered in Anton's eyes as he processed Snape's words. It had been nearly a year since the incident with Lupin and the confrontation with Snape—why is he still harboring such lingering animosity?
"You will join the Quidditch team as a Seeker!" Snape declared decisively, waving his hand to solidify his decision.
Anton's disbelief was palpable as he regarded Snape, the enigmatic head of Slytherin House, with a mix of curiosity and incredulity. "Are you being serious?" he inquired, unsure of the sudden turn of events.
Meeting Anton's incredulity with a steely gaze, Snape's icy eyes bore into him. "Do you have any objections?" he challenged, his tone a stark reminder of his authority.
"I respectfully refuse," Anton stated firmly, his stance unwavering as he made his position clear.
"I hate Quidditch, it's the dumbest game I've ever seen." Anton expressed candidly, comparing the sport to a frivolous pastime in his eyes. In jest, he could handle riding a motorcycle, but that didn't mean he desired to partake in a competitive game such as Quidditch.
Engaging in a race atop an exposed, plane-like broomstick?
What kind of game was this?
It posed a severe risk to life!
Anton had come to Hogwarts to study, not to gamble with his life in a game.
Snape's reaction was comical.
Anton expressed his disbelief.
Seething with anger, Snape's temper flared as he extended his index finger, pointing sternly towards the door with an air of authority. "Leave!" his command rang out, leaving no room for argument or discussion.
Gazing at his infuriated head of house, Anton attempted to reason with a calm demeanor, "I think we feel the same way, don't you think?"
To Anton's surprise, Snape let out a strange and enigmatic laugh, the sound echoing strangely in the tense atmosphere before he pushed the door open and swiftly exited the room.
It seemed like a case of 'if you won't leave, I will.'
The irascible Snape could only vent his frustration; what other recourse did he have? Deduct points? If so, it would certainly add an interesting twist.
Just then, a faint 'squeak' emanated from the shelf in the corner of Snape's office.
Anton arched an eyebrow and approached with curiosity, where he encountered a fluffy pink bird with large eyes and a sizable beak, resembling a 'Fwooper.'
Tsk tsk tsk, Snape's fondness for such a girlish creature?
The pink, fluffy bird appeared to have a stone lodged in its throat, emitting pitiful, silent, squeak-like hoarse calls and sporadic sneezes.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
A sharp rap echoed through the door, followed by a curious voice inquiring, "Professor Snape, be 'ee in?"
Subsequently, a towering and amiable figure strode through the open doorway, his presence filling the room with warmth. "I've been told 'ee got a Fwooper hybrid; proper interesting, that be. Can I 'ave a peek... Hold on, 'ave us met afor?" Hagrid's deep voice resonated with friendly curiosity.
Welcoming him with a warm smile, Anton recognized the familiar figure. "Hagrid."
"My name is Anthony Weasley, but you can call me Anton." he introduced himself with a friendly tone.
"Weasley, 'ee say?" Hagrid's expression shifted, his mind recalling the recent return of the Weasley twins to Hogwarts, the mention of another Weasley adding a touch of excitement to the Forbidden Forest's bustling atmosphere.
Slapping his forehead in a moment of sudden recollection, Hagrid exclaimed, "Arr, aye! 'Ee be the lad who sold Professor Snape a turtle brain at the Leaky Cauldron."
Affirming Hagrid's recollection with a nod, Anton acknowledged, "Yeah, it has been a while."
Eagerly rubbing his hands together, Hagrid's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "I recall you expressing interest in corresponding with me about magical creatures. I awaited your owl eagerly."
Excitement gleamed in Hagrid's eyes as he rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I mind 'ee wanted to 'ave a chat 'bout magical critters wi' I. I be eager to 'ear from 'ee."
With a wistful sigh, Anton acknowledged, "Yeah, a lot happened, and then I stayed with Lupin."