Chapter 33: Snape's Concerns

After a hasty farewell to Hagrid, Silven grabbed his bundle and headed back without a moment's delay.

Passing the open ground in front of the castle, he also caught sight of Harry and the others.

Hermione was making a kind of blue flame that could be bottled, to keep them warm.

The Bluebell Incendio — a type of Special magic flame; you can put your hand right on it without getting burned, and it only feels pleasantly warm. It's one of the most commonly used warming charms among wizards.

But "commonly used" here means among adult wizards — very few first-years ever manage to learn this charm. If Professor Flitwick had seen Hermione's little trick, he'd almost certainly have tacked five points onto Gryffindor.

Mhm… a professor did see it, only unfortunately it wasn't Flitwick — it was Snape, and he wasn't looking at her either.

"What's that in your hand, Potter?"

"Quidditch Through the Ages." Harry held it out for him to see.

"Confiscated. Library books aren't to be taken out of the castle." Snape snatched the book away. He must be in a decent mood today — he didn't even dock points.

Silven was passing by on the side. He'd originally had no intention of getting involved, but Snape was on a rampage.

"Hold it right there, Ollivander — what's that you've got!" Snape said, drifting up to Silven like a great bat.

"I bought a few things; the owl just delivered them." Silven held up the brown paper bag in his hand.

Snape pressed his lips together, said nothing, and — unlike with Harry — didn't make up some ad-hoc rule to confiscate Silven's things.

He was only targeting Harry; it wasn't all of Gryffindor. What a shame, though — he didn't get to dock a few points from Gryffindor for fun.

He really was in a good mood today.

But just as Snape was about to leave, he suddenly caught a familiar scent… the smell of blood.

As a master of potions, he was all too familiar with that smell.

In an instant, his gaze locked onto the brown paper bag in Silven's hand.

"Open it!" Snape stared at Silven, dead serious. "Now. Immediately. Don't make me say it twice!"

Silven was very cooperative; he had the bag open in a couple of quick motions.

Snape immediately leaned in to peer inside.

Harry and the other two, freshly relieved of their book, also crept over, faces full of curiosity.

Then they saw it — several egg-sized, blood-drenched hearts.

"Urgh—" Hermione was the first to cry out, lips pressed tight, face ashen. The other two weren't much better off; Ron was even worse than Hermione — he nearly threw up.

Snape's face wasn't much better either, though his reason had nothing to do with the sight of those blood-soaked things.

As a potions master, dealing with such things was the most basic part of the job — even the rat spleens and toad livers the students used in class were measured by the bucket. This little lot wasn't even a drizzle to him.

What Snape was thinking about was something else entirely.

Hearts are rarely used in potions; the things are more often linked to Dark Magic — including many famous curses, which require a heart as their medium.

There was precedent at Hogwarts of students studying Dark Magic, so he couldn't afford not to be on edge.

"What is this!" Snape demanded sharply.

"Red Cap hearts," Silven said.

"Why would you buy something like this."

"Because I have a use for them, of course." Silven glanced at him. "There's nothing in the Hogwarts school rules that forbids a student from buying Red Cap hearts."

Snape's expression stiffened, then he said coldly, "There is now. You'd better come clean."

"Alright then — I'm using them to make wands," Silven said.

"Lies!" Snape's gaze was piercing. "No one has ever used a Red Cap's heart to make a wand."

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, but I believe you're mistaken…"

Silven hadn't even finished speaking when Harry stepped forward.

"We saw Silven make a wand with a Red Cap heart nerve for its core with our very own eyes."

"That's right," Ron stepped up too. "I saw it as well — so did Neville and Seamus."

Both spoke with absolute conviction; they didn't look like liars in the slightest.

That gave Snape pause.

He suddenly looked into Harry's eyes.

Because this time it was the plain truth, Harry wasn't afraid of Snape at all and met his gaze with perfect composure.

But the next second, Harry instinctively lowered his head…

He didn't know why, but just now he'd suddenly felt something was very wrong — a strange notion, as if Snape could see right through him.

Snape's expression changed too. He looked at Silven the way one looks at a rare animal, muttering something under his breath.

Only his voice was too quiet for anyone to make out; they could only vaguely catch, "…it's actually true…"

Silven tugged at the corner of his mouth… Snape must have just used Legilimency on Harry — no question about it, he definitely did.

The feeling was a strange one.

Clearly, the main person involved in all this was him; the wand business was his idea in the first place. Yet Snape had used Legilimency on Harry to verify his testimony.

Of course, that wasn't to say Silven wanted to be Legilimized — nobody likes that sort of thing — but this blatant "favoritism" was really hard to miss.

That said, even if Snape had used Legilimency on him, he wouldn't have seen a thing.

The Ollivanders were a wizarding family that had lasted over two thousand years, and the only wandmaker family in Britain — the secrets involved were far too many. How could they possibly lack some means of protecting their own memories?

In fact, when Silven was a child and first opened that ancient, weathered copy of "Wands and Wizards," his memories had been shielded by an intricate, dizzyingly complex magical array on the frontispiece.

A magical array — something even older than Runes, a product of Merlin's era. That very copy of "Wands and Wizards" also hailed from that age.

The effect was essentially a free Occlumency — and a souped-up version at that.

Because aside from Legilimency, the Imperius Curse didn't work on him either… assuming it was cast by a normal wizard. People like Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, or Grindelwald were the exception.

After all, it was something over a thousand years old, and nobody had been maintaining it; a few flaws were only natural. At least when facing the other ninety-nine percent of wizards, Silven's confidence held up pretty well.

On the other side, after learning the "truth" of the matter, Snape quickly accepted the fact that Silven could make wands from Red Cap hearts.

Still the same old saying—any wizard who deals with wand-making isn't normal, so whatever bizarre thing they come up with is fair game.

But accepting it is one thing, confiscating it is another. A first-year student fiddling with a blood-soaked heart in his dormitory—what is that supposed to look like?

"Don't let this happen again." Snape snatched the bag away. "From now on, in this school, you are not allowed to purchase these things on your own."

"Then what am I supposed to do when I need something later?" Silven was definitely unconvinced, and a little heartbroken to boot.

A redcap's heart wasn't worth much, but for the wizards of Knockturn Alley, delivering goods to Hogwarts was a very risky transaction, so they had to charge extra.

That bundle of stuff had cost Silven a whole Galleon—enough snacks to feed an entire dormitory for three days.

"I am a wandmaker, registered with the Ministry of Magic. I have the right to create." Silven argued his case.

"That is not a reason for you to deal with dark wizards on your own." Snape said coldly. "You can come to a professor."

"Come to you?"

Silven swore he really was only trying to push back against Snape, wanting to take a jab at him, but he hadn't expected that after a brief moment of thought, Snape actually nodded.

"That works."

(End of chapter)