After shaking off the Weasley brothers, Robert continued walking outside. At the entrance, he even ran into Snape, who appeared to be waiting for someone specific.
Maybe it was Harry—after all, Hogwarts was officially on holiday. After today, they wouldn't see each other again for two months.
Lost in thought, Robert didn't even notice Snape's piercing gaze following him the entire way as he walked past. He didn't acknowledge Harry either, who was rushing up from behind.
Snape's mouth moved, just as he seemed about to speak—
"Severus, I've been looking for you," Dumbledore's voice called as he approached from the opposite direction. "I plan to visit some old friends over the holiday. Would you care to join me?"
"Someone else could easily do that. Why ask me?" Snape narrowed his eyes.
"You must know what happened last night," Dumbledore lowered his voice, gripping Snape's wrist tightly. "I would never mistake that face—but you clearly said he escaped from the underground classroom!"
"Severus, I swear, I didn't lie," Dumbledore said solemnly.
"I believe you. Of course, I believe you..." Snape's expression shifted as emotions crossed his face. "But Ollivander also went to the underground classroom. Perhaps he knows something we don't."
"He never made it into the final chamber," Dumbledore replied after a moment of silence.
"But—"
"Severus, we can't assume Robert was involved in what happened just based on speculation," Dumbledore interrupted.
Just then, Harry arrived at the entrance and curiously looked at the two professors. It was rather astonishing to see the Headmaster himself seeing students off.
Harry smiled at Dumbledore. "Goodbye, sir."
"Goodbye, Harry," Dumbledore returned the smile.
"Now then, Severus, I believe our top priority is finding a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Dumbledore said, turning back. "Will you help me?"
"Of course, Headmaster. Though don't you think finding a new Potions professor would be easier?" Snape replied with a blank expression.
"I think it would be very difficult to find a better Potions professor than you," Dumbledore said with calm conviction.
"Is that so? I hope you're right," Snape sneered before turning around and walking back into the castle.
...
The train ride back was livelier than the one that brought them to Hogwarts, especially for the first-year Muggle-born students.
After nearly a year at Hogwarts, most first-years had shaken off their initial hesitation and nervousness. They now genuinely understood and accepted what it meant to live in a magical world.
They eagerly anticipated reaching their destination, wanting to share their magical experiences with their families.
The only damper on their spirits was the notice issued before the break—reminding them that they were strictly forbidden from using magic during the holiday.
To them, it felt like being banned from wearing a swimsuit at the beach!
Some students voiced their discontent, but to no avail. After all, it was called a "notice" for a reason—the Ministry of Magic had no intention of seeking student input.
It was clearly stated: anyone who dared use magic during the holidays would be expelled.
First-years could only grumble and accept the warning, while second-years and older students, already familiar with the rule, received it with begrudging acceptance.
The Hogwarts Express passed through one Muggle town after another. Students clustered in small groups, excitedly chatting about their holiday plans.
Perhaps because many had formed strong friendships over the year, the carriages no longer held the same tension they did on the trip to Hogwarts. Robert even found an empty carriage and sat alone.
It wasn't that he lacked friends—he had quite a few—but he wasn't in the mood for conversation right now.
The train passed through a dense forest once again.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the carriage door. Neville stepped in.
Robert looked up at him.
"I saw it all," Neville said abruptly, before quickly realizing what he was saying and turning to close the door behind him.
"What?" Robert asked, confused.
"The unicorn," Neville said, walking over to sit beside him. "I couldn't sleep last night. I just happened to see it run out from your dormitory window. And also... also..."
He trailed off. Remembering something disturbing, Neville's face paled, and he began to shiver uncontrollably.
"Don't force yourself," Robert said, his voice calmer now. "That thing really wasn't pleasant."
Neville's words had brought last night's events back to the forefront of Robert's mind.
He never expected a "resident" to be hiding in that fragment.
Voldemort must have planned to conceal himself, to lower Robert's guard. But he hadn't accounted for Robert's true intentions.
When Robert attempted to roll the soul fragment into a wand core and embed it in the dragon blood wood, he inadvertently forced out Voldemort's consciousness. And then everything erupted.
Unicorn versus Voldemort—and half the windows in the castle shattered in the chaos.
As for the outcome… well, the fact that he was on the train meant it was self-evident.
Unicorns were the natural nemesis of all dark magic. And with Voldemort's soul fragment being smaller than a Golden Snitch, it was no match at all.
In hindsight, it was terrifying.
A soul fragment with its own consciousness—wasn't that basically a prototype Horcrux?
But didn't creating one require killing someone to split the soul?
Robert couldn't make sense of it.
Still, had he accidentally discovered a method to destroy Horcruxes?
The soul-form Unicorn had perfectly inherited its natural resistance to dark magic—and even compensated for its usual weakness: being unable to directly attack souls.
It was as if it were made to counter Voldemort.
Could this have been caused by Voldemort drinking Unicorn blood?
Had the curse activated the moment he ingested it?
Robert turned to look out the window, silently thankful for the hundredth time that he had reacted quickly last night—summoning the Unicorn the instant he recognized that sinister face.
But still… such a pity about the dragon blood wood. It had been blown to bits.
Lost in thought, Robert didn't notice Neville, who had come to persuade him not to blow up the dormitory again, gradually losing confidence. Discouraged, Neville stood up, head down, and turned to leave.
"Oh, by the way, there's something in your hat," Neville said as he exited.
Robert turned his head but didn't spot anything. He didn't think much of it.
It was a new hat he'd bought from the Weasley brothers—a novelty item he rarely wore. It usually just hung from the back of his school robe.
"It must have fallen in last night," Neville offered, walking back and retrieving two finger-length pieces of wood from the hat.
"This... looks really nice."
Dragon blood wood—how could it not look nice?
Seeing those shattered pieces again made Robert's heart ache. He instinctively reached out to take them.
But the moment his fingers touched the broken wood, the magical symbols on his wrist—symbols that only appeared during wand core creation—suddenly lit up without warning.
As if completing a crucial step, the two broken pieces rapidly fused together, becoming a complete wand.
[Dragon Blood Wood (Snake Wood), Dark Wanderer, 2.2 inches]
[Status: Disorderly, Critical]
[Properties: Unique — Automatically triggers the Killing Curse upon contact with magic;
Overload — Instantly burns the wand core, absorbing all magic to strengthen the Killing Curse. Overflowing magic will be transmitted to the next target.]
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