Anthony is mentally stable

All the students except the third-year Gryffindors performed exceptionally well on the tests. The fourth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs even achieved perfect scores! Impressed, Anthony promised to reward them with another bag of candy in the next class.

The initially nervous students were surprised by their results. The fourth-years repeatedly double-checked with Anthony, worried he'd accidentally given them a lower-grade test. Anthony overheard a third-year Ravenclaw muttering angrily while reviewing the answers, "The Weasley brothers... they must have gotten ahold of the test... they tricked everyone!"

The students' accuracy significantly exceeded Anthony's expectations. If he hadn't known each class received different exams, he might have suspected them of cheating.

"You've all surpassed my expectations," Anthony admitted after explaining the test. "I confess I underestimated your abilities. Ten points will be awarded to each house."

The students erupted in cheers. Midgen clapped excitedly, shouting, "Don't resign, Professor Anthony! You're the best!"

Anthony reassured them he had no intention of resigning so soon into the term. Curious, he asked, "Has any professor resigned recently?"

A Hufflepuff student replied enthusiastically, "Professor Quirrell, though it wasn't really a resignation. He was on leave, I think? Then we had Professor Binns, followed by Professor Snape. Professor Quirrell returned and is now our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Anthony calculated the situation. "So you happened to have Professor Binns during course selection?"

"Yes," the student smiled. "We were fortunate not to have a change in teaching materials. Other classes complained theirs changed too much, and they had to relearn everything."

Anthony made a mental note to ask Professor Binns about the Muggle Studies O.W.L. testing standards at a later date.

There were some past titles in the library archives. He looked at them carefully and found that they weren't too out of touch with the real world. If Hogwarts students had been answering questions using 17th-century answers until the year before last, it would be easy to understand the sudden increase in pass rates last year.…

After class, Anthony didn't return to his office. He planned to head to the staff room for a break and chat with colleagues, but upon opening the door, he was surprised to find it empty. He settled down, casually pulling a detailed explanation of Transfiguration from a nearby shelf. Leaning back comfortably in the black wooden chair, he began reading. Transfiguration practice had been neglected for the past few days.

The Necromancer's notebook was a disorganized mess, filled with a jumble of experimental records, magical research, diary entries, and cryptic scribbles. Deciphering the order and extracting useful information was a time-consuming process. While intriguing, it left his eyes strained. He decided on a respite. Studying Necromancy kept triggering his nightmares.

The bare office and simple bedroom increasingly resembled a familiar coffin. Without his cat brushing against his ankles with its cool fur, he might have succumbed to hallucinations. The staff room fireplace crackled softly, flames flickering, sending sparks swirling upwards. The firelight danced on the shadows cast by the empty armchair. Anthony gently placed the book on his chest, drifting towards sleep. Suddenly, the ajar door of the lounge creaked open. "... Of course, takes after his father! Ah, Professor Anthony." "What's the matter?"

Anthony startled awake to see Professors Flitwick and McGonagall entering. Professor McGonagall, rarely frequenting the lounge, sat at the table with a smile. "We've found our Seeker."

"Who is it?" Anthony inquired curiously. Professor McGonagall's voice held a hint of pride, "Potter. I don't want to brag, but just wait and see, Professor Anthony. When the Quidditch season starts, he'll surprise everyone."

"Of course he will! But Ravenclaw also has promising players. To be fair, they're all talented," Professor Flitwick chimed in happily. "Tea, Minerva?"

"Yes, thank you," Professor McGonagall nodded, accepting the levitating teacup and taking a sip. "Oh, wait." She rose promptly, holding the cup as she made her exit. "Enjoy your afternoon tea. I have something else to attend to."

"But, Minerva, it's just time for a cup of tea!" cried Professor Flitwick. He was adding milk to his tea before he even sat down.

"It's a very urgent matter." Professor McGonagall said calmly, "I want to buy Potter a broom."

She walked away gracefully.

"She's determined to defeat Severus, isn't she?" complained Professor Flitwick.

He took out a few books from the bookshelf, raised his chair, and sat next to Anthony: "Ah, "Detailed Explanation of Twenty-Five Commonly Used Transfigurations." It's a very good book. It has some very unique insights into transfiguration, such as Biological metamorphosis..." He talked rather talkatively about the book's novel explanation of transfiguration.

Anthony chatted with him for a while and then became distracted.

Professor Flitwick is knowledgeable and knowledgeable, and has his own understanding of all kinds of magic. Unfortunately, he does not know undead magic. Anthony has been studying undead magic recently and has some conjectures and results, but he is unable to share them with others. This thirst for scholarly communication nearly drove him crazy.

Maybe he should ask Dumbledore for lunch and invite him to see a walking roast chicken. Dumbledore might like his idea, who knows.

Yes, he had recently discovered that a large part of the labor of the kitchen house elves - whether steamed, cooked, fried or roasted - could be crudely classified as "corpses" by undead magic. It was really weird, so he followed his grandfather's advice: don't play with your food. This statement applies equally to seven-year-old Anthony and twenty-seven-year-old Anthony.

His cat has no such consciousness. Ever since it discovered that Anthony could make the colored ball fish move, it had ignored the dried fish lying quietly in the food bowl.

But it is a cat after all, and Anthony has no intention of teaching it table manners. Even the skeleton part is 100% cat.

He suddenly wondered if he could control the cat to return to its skeleton form, or disguise it better.

There should be a branch of necromancy magic that changes the appearance. The notes record that they summoned horse bones to walk on the mountain road. Because they disliked the discomfort of sitting, the instructor made the horse bones grow fake muscles and fur. They rode two undead horses that did not need to eat, drink or rest all the way to the next village, and no villagers noticed anything unusual. It's just that the notes didn't say how this was done.

"I also remembered that I had something to do." Anthony drank the last bit of tea at the bottom of the cup and said apologetically to Professor Flitwick. He couldn't wait to get back and try out his new ideas