Chapter 31: I Really Thank You All

Leaving aside the warm and supportive camaraderie among colleagues, Dumbledore could no longer bear Hagrid’s pitiful gaze and stepped forward to put the aggressive three-headed dog into a deep sleep.

After all, this incident wasn’t the three-headed dog’s fault; there was no need to keep it suspended like this.

At Dumbledore’s signal, Professor McGonagall also lowered the three-headed dog.

“Thank you, thank you…” Hagrid wiped his tears and walked forward to tear off the chains.

In the process, Dumbledore suddenly noticed a few scraps of fabric caught on the teeth of the middle head of the three-headed dog.

“What’s that?” Dumbledore asked.

At his reminder, Hagrid also noticed and picked up the scraps, turning them over and over in his hands. “Clothing from a troll?”

“Trolls don’t wear clothes.”

“Oh, sorry, Professor Snape,” Hagrid said, willingly handing the fragments to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore raised his hand and gently pointed.

“Reparo!”

Clearly, these were not the only fragments; under the spell’s influence, other pieces flew in from various places and automatically attached themselves around the largest one.

Soon, a pointed hat appeared before them.

“Is this the hat from the school robe?” Professor McGonagall first froze, as if remembering something, then immediately shook her head.

“That’s impossible—we arrived the moment we heard the noise; if any student had left, I would have seen them.”

She then turned to Professor Flitwick, who had just arrived.

Professor Flitwick immediately understood and said, “No one upstairs either—I’ve been watching carefully.”

“What about Mr. Ollivander?” Dumbledore suddenly asked. “I heard he didn’t attend the banquet at all.”

“Silven Ollivander?” Professor Flitwick first blinked, thought for a moment, then nodded. “He was there too—he helped maintain order. I remember clearly.”

“Where?”

“On the second floor, near the library,” Professor Flitwick said.

“Ah, so Potter lied,” Snape said coldly. “Just like his father—arrogant, full of lies…”

“Severus,” Dumbledore interrupted him.

Snape looked displeased but fell silent.

“Should we check the students’ hats?” Professor McGonagall quickly spoke up, shifting the topic.

“No need,” Dumbledore shook his head. “It was probably accidentally brought in by the troll. It doesn’t matter.”

In fact, this plain pointed hat was practically standard equipment for school robes at Hogwarts—it was far too common, and whoever lost it would surely have done something about it; checking this was meaningless.

“I still think I should go to the hospital wing,” Snape stepped forward. “I’ll brew a special potion for Professor Quirrell—perhaps we can get the correct answer from him.”

Among everyone present, only Snape remained true to his original intent—he simply wanted to get to Quirrell.

As for whether his “special potion” contained anything else… he’d deny it outright.

But Dumbledore did not agree.

After staying on-site a little longer and confirming no other clues had been missed, everyone gradually left, leaving only Hagrid to care for the injured three-headed dog, Fluffy.

On the way back, Snape spoke again: “Dumbledore, I still think it’s unwise to let that three-headed dog remain in the castle—it’s far too dangerous.”

“You saw it yourself—even with only two heads, it killed an adult troll in minutes. What if one day it gets hungry and breaks into the castle without restraint…”

“Don’t worry—the three-headed dog can’t break through that door,” Dumbledore said. “Besides, the house-elves in the kitchen will take care of it.”

“But…”

“I assure you, there’s no problem.”

Snape had wanted to say more, but now he fell silent and instead said, “I’ll keep an eye on Quirrell—this time, he’s definitely behind this.”

“Thank you.”

The two parted at the staircase landing.

…

Meanwhile, on the eighth floor, Gryffindor common room.

“When did you get back!” Harry, just returning, stared in shock at Silven, who was sitting in the armchair.

“I came back with everyone,” Silven said. “I was about to ask where you were—everyone said they didn’t see you.”

“We went looking for you to tell you about the troll in the school,” Harry said.

Silven looked at him, then at Ron and Hermione beside him.

“When did you two become so close?”

“Who’s close to her!” Ron immediately distanced himself. “If she hadn’t pleaded for Harry, we’d never have teamed up with her!”

“I was just stating facts!” Hermione glared at him. “Do you think I wanted to be with you?”

Silven stared at them in surprise.

Later, from Harry, he learned the truth.

Before the Halloween banquet, Hermione had gone to Professor McGonagall on her own initiative, providing a full account of the flying lesson, trying to prove that Malfoy was the one who broke the rules, and that Harry had been forced to get involved to protect a classmate’s belongings.

Perhaps because she told the truth, or perhaps because she added harmless embellishments, by the time Hermione left McGonagall’s office, Harry’s detention had been canceled.

Then came the Halloween banquet, when Quirrell burst in to announce the troll’s presence; all three immediately decided to find the still-outside Silven and acted together.

To be honest, Silven felt a little touched.

Though it might have been the influence of “Gryffindor spirit,” they truly showed up when it mattered—and more importantly, they risked facing a troll themselves rather than reporting their whereabouts to the professors. This was a friend worth having.

Silven felt somewhat comforted.

“Don’t worry,” Harry patted his chest. “Professor McGonagall docked points from us, but not from you.”

Wait…

Silven’s smile froze. “No points docked from me… does that mean Professor McGonagall knew I wasn’t at the banquet?”

“Of course,” Ron nodded as if it were obvious. “But we explained—you hadn’t had time to get to the banquet yet, didn’t know about the troll, and didn’t leave midway.”

“Then I really thank you,” Silven said flatly.

Well, his relief came too soon.

Silven felt helpless—he had no idea how to describe his current mood.

Just ten minutes ago, Silven had used the map Fred and George gave him to slip into a secret passage before Snape and McGonagall arrived, took a shortcut to the second floor, blended into the student group, and even managed to draw Professor Flitwick’s attention.

Everything had gone smoothly—he’d thought he could stay out of this entirely—but now…

Silven sighed.

Fine, whatever.

Even if the professors knew, what could they do? He’d indirectly helped them deal with the troll threat—surely they wouldn’t dock his points.

As for the injured three-headed dog? That was the troll’s doing—what does it have to do with Silven?

…

(End of Chapter)