Chapter 61: Wand, Silvermane

When Hagrid led Harry and the others out of the Forbidden Forest, the sky outside had already brightened.

Filch had been waiting eagerly by the hut, and when he saw them emerge unharmed from the forest, his face twisted with disappointment.

“What a shame…” Filch muttered as he stepped forward, but before he could say more, a large hand shoved him aside.

Hagrid glared at Malfoy.

“Scaring classmates inside the Forbidden Forest—I’ll tell Professor Snape about this!”

Malfoy didn’t care at all; he knew Snape would never punish him.

“How boring. Can we go back now?” Without waiting for Hagrid’s reply, Malfoy grumbled toward the castle:

“I wish I were lying warm in my dormitory instead of some dull, creepy forest.”

“That idiot… Sorry, I mean Slytherin.” Hagrid glanced at Filch, then whispered to Silven, “So the centaurs really didn’t steal the unicorn’s corpse?”

“No.” Silven spoke with absolute certainty.

Harry looked at Silven and nodded firmly.

“This is strange… then how did the unicorn’s corpse just vanish?” Hagrid scratched his head and turned into his hut.

Silven, Harry, and Neville followed Filch back to the castle.

Along the way, Harry kept turning his head, lips moving as if to speak, but by the time they reached the Great Hall, he still said nothing.

After spending the night in the Forbidden Forest, they were starving—now the only thing on their minds was a hearty breakfast.

Ron, Hermione, and the Weasley twins were there too, having just finished their detentions and rushed over, ravenous.

Though it was still before breakfast time, once they sat down, the table was already piled high with toasted bread, fragrant sausages, and bacon.

Silven drew his wand and gave a light flick; fresh bilberry jam spread evenly across the surface of the toast.

“Do you really need magic for that?” Fred said, puzzled.

“I remember when I first arrived, I wanted to use magic for everything,” George set down his pumpkin juice jug. “But I don’t do that anymore.”

Silven ignored them, still using his wand to spread jam and slice sausages.

“It’s so beautiful,” Hermione suddenly said. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful wand—is this one you made?”

“Just a wand…” Ron hadn’t paid attention, but when he glanced up instinctively, he froze.

“Yeah, I think it’s beautiful too,” Silven said, gently stroking the new wand in his hand.

[Silvermane]

[Whomping Willow (Unicorn), Three-Headed Dog Tooth, Twelve and a Half Inches]

[Status: Perfect]

[Trait: Arrogance: The unicorn suppresses the opponent’s wand affinity and reduces compatibility between wand and user (even as a wand core, the unicorn still looks down equally on all living beings)]

[Sacred: White magic effects +50%, casting speed +30%, spell range +30%; black magic effects -90%]

[Purification: When used against curses or dark creatures, suppression effect increases by 100%]

[Spellbreak: Magic penetration +20%; chance to directly destroy opponent’s defensive spells]

[Tear: After magic inflicts damage on a target, counter-curse effectiveness is reduced by 30%]

[Exclusive Spell: Splendor Monocerotis—The unicorn’s soul leaps from the core, charging the target with full force.]

Silven had never seen such an absurd wand—he’d always assumed the unicorn was the core, but in truth, the three-headed dog’s tooth was the core, and the unicorn became part of the wand’s body.

Even more astonishing were the five positive traits, each with a minimum bonus of 20%, the highest reaching a staggering 100%.

In terms of effect, the first three traits clearly came from the unicorn, the last two from the three-headed dog—perfectly matching their positions within the wand.

Moreover, this was the first and only wand Silven had ever seen with a name and an exclusive spell.

Silvermane.

Silven took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to try the exclusive spell.

He even wondered: perhaps the Elder Wand was no more powerful than this.

Too bad the last time he visited the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore hadn’t been carrying the Elder Wand—otherwise he could’ve compared their differences.

“Oh, I get it!” George suddenly shouted, drawing everyone’s attention.

“This is the wand you made from the Whomping Willow branch, isn’t it!”

“Yes, that’s right,” Silven nodded.

“Incredible,” Fred marveled. “I’ve never seen gold patterns on a wand before—they look familiar. If the tip were just a bit finer, it’d be identical to a unicorn’s horn.”

“Hmm…” Harry lifted his head, opened his mouth, but said nothing.

“If you like this kind of wand, there’s a way,” Silven said.

“Forget it,” Fred waved his hand. “We don’t have money for a second wand—Whomping Willow must be expensive.”

“No, I’m not suggesting you buy a new wand. I mean this.” Silven placed a thimble-sized bottle on the table.

“Wand dye spray,” Silven explained. “Spray it on your wand, and you can easily change it to any color you like.”

“Impossible,” George blurted. “We’ve tried—no dye sticks to a wand’s surface, not even with magic.”

“You just couldn’t do it,” Silven smiled. “Remember my surname?”

“Ollivander… oh!” The Weasley twins simultaneously looked enlightened.

“How much is this?” they asked eagerly.

“Ten Galleons a bottle,” Silven said. “But since we were both locked up together, I’ll give you the lowest discount—just one Galleon.”

“That’s an offer you can’t refuse,” George licked his lips. “But how do you make any profit?”

“I make plenty,” Silven said.

“…”

“You’re such a merchant.”

They both looked at Silven with clear disdain.

“It’s fine,” Silven said. “Green and silver cost thirty Galleons a bottle—and no discounts.”

“Then it’s perfect.”

In the end, Fred bought golden spray, George bought red, and after hesitating, Hermione bought blue.

One Galleon wasn’t cheap for her, but the term was ending, and her remaining pocket money covered it.

Ron wanted to buy too, but he had no money—only stared helplessly.

Ten minutes later, they finished breakfast and left the Great Hall.

Back in the dormitory, Neville collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep within seconds.

Their first class was at ten—they could still squeeze in a little more sleep.

Ron was exhausted too, but before falling asleep, he forced himself to ask Harry: “What’s wrong? You haven’t said a word since breakfast. Something on your mind?”

“No, nothing,” Harry said. “Ron, can a unicorn be used as a wand core?”

“Of course,” Ron yawned. “Don’t you remember? My old wand had unicorn tail hair.”

“Not tail hair,” Harry said. “A whole unicorn.”

“What? Harry, are you so tired you’re talking nonsense?”

Ron rolled over in bed, mumbling, “A unicorn’s huge—how could it fit as a core? Even giants couldn’t wield a wand that big.”

“But I saw it with my own eyes, and Silven admitted it himself,” Harry said. “Hagrid doesn’t believe it—he thinks Silven’s joking. Could he really be joking?”

No one answered.

Ron was already asleep; soft, even breathing came from behind the curtains.

(End of Chapter)