Chapter 70: Overload

After shaking off the Weasley twins, Silven continued walking outside.

At the doorway, he ran into Snape, who looked as though he had come here specifically to wait for someone.

Probably Harry, since Hogwarts was already on break — after today, anyone wanting to see him would have to wait another two months.

Because his mind was on other things, when Silven walked past, he didn't notice at all that Snape's gaze had been on him the whole time.

He even overlooked Harry, who had hurried up behind him.

Snape's mouth moved, just as he was about to say something.

"Severus, I've been looking for you." Dumbledore walked over from the other side. "I'd like to take advantage of the break to visit a few old friends — would you come with me?"

"Anyone could do that sort of thing, so why must it be me?" Snape narrowed his eyes.

"You must know what happened last night." He suddenly lowered his voice, gripping his own wrist tightly. "I absolutely would not mistake that face, but you clearly said he had already run from the underground chamber!"

"Severus, I can swear I wasn't lying," Dumbledore said.

"I believe you, of course I do…" Snape's eyes kept shifting. "But Ollivander also went to the underground chamber — perhaps he knows something we don't!"

"He didn't enter the last room," Dumbledore said after a moment of silence.

"But—"

"Severus, we cannot assume just on a guess that what happened that day had anything to do with Silven." Dumbledore cut him off.

The next second, Harry happened to reach the doorway and glanced curiously at the two men standing guard there.

What a sight — the headmaster of Hogwarts personally seeing a student off.

Harry smiled at Dumbledore. "Goodbye, Mr."

"Goodbye, Harry." Dumbledore smiled as well.

"Now then, Severus, I think the most important thing right now is to find a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." He turned his head and said, "Would you help me?"

"Of course, Headmaster — don't you think finding a new Potions professor would be a bit simpler?" Snape said expressionlessly.

"I doubt I could find a Potions professor more outstanding than you," Dumbledore said.

"Is that so? I hope you're right." Snape gave a cold laugh, turned, and walked back toward the castle.

……

The return train was livelier than the one coming, especially for those new students from Muggle families.

After nearly a year at Hogwarts, most of the new students no longer had the bewilderment and nervousness they'd had on the way here — they had truly come to know and accept what was called magic.

They were now looking forward to the train arriving quickly so they could properly tell their families about the wondrous experiences of this school year.

The only thing that put a damper on things was probably the notice handed out before the break — warning them that magic was not allowed during the holidays.

How is that any different from going to the beach and not being allowed to wear a swimsuit!

Some firmly opposed the rule, but it was useless — the reason it was sent as a notice was precisely because the Ministry of Magic had no intention of consulting the students.

It was also written very clearly: anyone who dared use magic could just wait to be expelled.

The first-years could only grumble and take the notice; students second year and above had long known this would happen, and although they didn't like it, they accepted it calmly.

The Hogwarts Express rolled past one Muggle town after another, with people gathering in twos and threes to discuss holiday plans.

Perhaps because everyone now had familiar friends, the carriages weren't as tense as on the way here — Silven even found an empty carriage and sat down in it alone.

It wasn't that he had no friends to chat with; Silven actually had quite a few, he just wasn't in the mood right now.

The train passed through another stretch of woods.

Just then someone knocked on the carriage door, and Neville came in from outside.

Silven looked up at him.

"Actually, I saw everything." Neville said suddenly, then suddenly realized something and hurriedly turned to close the carriage door.

"What?" Silven looked at him.

"The unicorn." Neville walked over and sat down beside Silven. "Last night I couldn't sleep, and I happened to see it run out of your dormitory window, and also… also a…"

As though picturing something terrifying, Neville grew tense again — his face went pale, and his teeth chattered nonstop.

"Don't force yourself, that thing really isn't pretty." Neville's words stirred Silven's memories too, and his thoughts drifted involuntarily back to last night.

Silven had never imagined that there was actually a "resident" inside that fragment.

Voldemort had probably wanted to hide himself and lower Silven's guard, but he clearly hadn't expected what Silven's true intention was.

So when Silven tried to roll the fragment into a wand core and embed it in the dragon-blood wood, he inevitably forced Voldemort's consciousness inside out… and then last night's scene unfolded.

A unicorn battling Voldemort, with half the castle's windows caught in the crossfire.

As for the result… since he was still able to board the return train, there was no need to say more.

Unicorns are the natural bane of all dark magic, and combined with the fact that Voldemort's little soul fragment wasn't even as big as a Golden Snitch, it certainly wasn't a match.

Thinking about it still sent a chill down his spine — a soul fragment with consciousness, isn't that just the prototype of a Horcrux?

But doesn't that thing require murder to split the soul?

Silven couldn't figure it out.

Speaking of which though, had he inadvertently stumbled upon a Method of the device to destroy Horcruxes?

A unicorn in soul form not only perfectly inherited its natural talent for countering all dark magic, but also made up for the shortcoming of being unable to attack souls — it was tailor-made for Voldemort.

Could it be that because Voldemort had drunk unicorn blood, the curse took effect on the spot?

Silven turned to look out the window, thanking his lucky stars for what must have been the hundredth time that he'd reacted quickly enough to summon the unicorn the instant he saw that familiar face.

Too bad about his dragon-blood wood though — it had been blown straight to pieces.

Lost in these thoughts, Silven didn't notice Neville beside him, who had been trying to persuade him not to blow up the dormitory again, deflating once more, hanging his head, standing up, and preparing to head back to his own carriage.

"Oh right, there's something in your hat." Neville, who had just stepped out, said suddenly.

Silven turned his head, didn't see anything, but didn't think much of it either.

This hat was one he'd newly bought from the Weasley twins; he basically never wore it, and it had always hung from the back of his school robe.

"It must have fallen in last night." Neville stepped forward on his own and pulled two finger-length pieces of wood out from the hood at the back of Silven's robe.

"This is it… It's actually quite pretty."

Dragonblood wood—of course it's pretty.

Seeing the dragonblood wood blown to pieces again, Silven's heart began to bleed once more, and he instinctively reached out to take it.

However, the moment Silven's fingers touched the two broken pieces of wood, the magical runes on his wrist—the ones that only appeared when crafting a wand core—suddenly flickered without warning.

As if some most crucial step had been completed, the two broken pieces of wood swiftly drew together and became a complete… wand.

【Dragonblood Wood (Snakewood), Dark Ghost, two and one-fifth inches】

【Status: Turbulent, Critical】

【Traits: Unique: Automatically triggers Avada Kedavra upon contact with magic;

Overload: Instantly burns the wand core, drawing on all magic power to strengthen Avada Kedavra; any overflowing magic power will be transferred to the next target.】

……

Silven

(End of chapter)