Tom Takes Revenge

Tom Takes Revenge

As it turned out, some of Silvan's instincts were quite accurate... Well, perhaps they could not really be called instincts.

While everyone else was celebrating, Silvan had spotted gray cat fur on the stairs, as well as Tom at the top of them.

If one looked closely enough, they could even see blood scabs and some conspicuous gray fur stuck to his body.

Tom had appeared after Silvan entered the common room, wearing a smug expression as though he were claiming credit.

Claiming credit?

A few minutes later, Silvan could not help twitching the corner of his mouth.

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps Tom had seen Mrs Norris stopping him the previous night.

It was not impossible.

After all, before coming to Hogwarts, he had warned Tom not to go after other people's pets... and Mrs Norris could be considered Filch's pet.

So Tom could not possibly have attacked her without reason.

And Mrs Norris most likely would not have provoked Tom, who was much bigger than her, of her own accord.

Besides, even if Tom truly disliked Mrs Norris, he would have cleared away any evidence immediately after making his move... just as he had tried to hide Trevor back then.

Silvan had never doubted Tom's intelligence.

After all, the cats at Eeylops Owl Emporium generally had a bit of Kneazle blood in them. The fact that Tom had stood out among them and become the "tyrant of the pet shop" was enough to explain a great deal.

The fact that Tom dared to keep the "evidence of his crime" on himself for an entire day, then brazenly appear before Silvan, meant that he had nothing to fear and was not worried about being punished for it.

Thinking it over, the matter became quite simple.

"Good job."

Silvan walked up the stairs and rubbed Tom beneath the chin.

The cat rubbed against Silvan's hand, purring away.

"But you still cannot eat your coworkers. That is non-negotiable!"

The soft touch against his palm vanished instantly. When Silvan turned his head again, all he saw was the tip of a black tail disappearing into the celebrating crowd.

"Silvan."

Ron's voice came from behind him.

"You said you'd tell us why tonight."

"Ah, that's right." Silvan stood up.

"What were you doing just now?" Harry asked curiously.

He seemed to have seen Silvan petting something a moment ago, but it had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Nothing." Silvan said casually, "Didn't you want to know why I changed dormitories? Come with me."

At that, Harry immediately forgot his earlier doubts.

The group headed up to the second floor together.

Silvan's new dormitory was not far from the old one. It could even be said to be right next door, with less than ten feet between the two doors.

Even the layout inside was exactly the same.

That was only natural. Gryffindor had not prepared true single dormitories. This was also a room for five, but there were not many first-years, so it had happened to be empty.

After Harry and the others entered, they looked around in unspoken agreement.

Then, their attention settled on the desk in the dormitory.

Their own dormitory had a large table like this one, positioned between the five beds. It was usually used for schoolbags, snacks, Wizard Chess, and the like. They could also use it for homework or reading.

But Silvan was the only one in this dormitory, so he did not have that many things.

Now, there was only a long transparent glass tube on the table, containing a pale yellow gelatinous substance, along with a... wand?

"That isn't a wand. It's only a semi-finished product."

Before they could ask, Silvan explained first. "Wand-body soaking solution, mixed with fifty different herbs and tree oils. It's non-toxic, but the smell is a little pungent."

As he spoke, Silvan took out the unfinished wand.

The liquid dripping from it landed on the table, and Harry and the others caught a faint scent lingering beneath their noses.

It was a strange mixture of bitterness, earthiness, and sourness... like fermented ketchup poured over freshly chopped tree roots.

It was simply bizarre.

Seamus and Ron instinctively covered their noses, while Harry did nothing.

He had lived in the cupboard at the Dursley family home before, and it had not smelled any better. He was already used to it.

At that moment, he was watching Silvan with great interest.

"You said that was a semi-finished wand?"

"More precisely, it's the wand body." Silvan lightly rubbed it with his fingers, and the cylindrical wooden stick immediately split in two down the middle.

"Have you finished it?" Silvan raised an eyebrow.

"Finished what?"

"The necessary preparations." Silvan raised a hand and somehow produced a faintly glowing red "string."

"Wait, Silvan..." Neville suddenly realized something and blurted out, "Are you going to make a wand now?"

"Yes." Silvan nodded. "The wand body has been treated, and the wand core is ready-made. Why not?"

"But, but... we're still here." Neville froze for a moment, then stammered, "Can we watch the process of making a wand?"

Neville came from a pure-blood wizarding family. Although he had a poor memory, he still understood what the process of "making a wand" meant.

There were several thousand wizards in the United Kingdom's magical world, yet Ollivander was the only one capable of making wands... at least, he was the only one Neville knew of.

"Oh, that." Silvan glanced at them.

Neville, Harry, Seamus, Ron...

"Ah, it's fine. No problem at all. I trust you." Silvan said with a smile.

It was as though a ray of sunlight had torn through the darkness beyond the window. The others inexplicably felt touched, along with a trace of guilt.

They had kept pressing Silvan about changing dormitories and said so many unpleasant things, yet Silvan trusted them so much that he was even willing to share such a family secret with them...

Damn it, they were truly awful people!

In fact, the moment they smelled that strange odor, they had understood why Silvan was living here.

If it were only once in a while, they could grit their teeth and bear it. But if they had to smell it every day... they did not dare imagine it. They would definitely go mad.

"Don't worry, I definitely won't tell anyone." Seamus Finnigan was the first to state his position, his determined gaze carrying a certain sense of mission.

"Huh?" Silvan glanced at him. "I wasn't... Well, you can understand it that way."

In truth, Silvan was not worried at all.

If someone could learn to make a wand merely by watching once, then the ability would be far too cheap.

Besides, these few... how should he put it? None of them were particularly known for their intelligence.

Of course, he definitely could not say that out loud. It would be too hurtful.

Ignoring the others, Silvan placed the red "string" on the cross-section of the wand body.

One end of the "string" was like a stream flowing into a river, or perhaps like a fish. Under Silvan's control, it wriggled and wound its way along, leaving an irregular trail of flickering red light behind it.

Under his control?

Harry suddenly felt dazed. He also noticed that Silvan's right hand was glowing gold, as though some kind of symbol was shining upon it.

(End of Chapter)