Conflict

Overnight, a thick blanket of snow covered Hogwarts Castle, as if to remind everyone that Christmas was just around the corner.

Silvan had originally planned to return to Diagon Alley for Christmas. A month earlier, he had received a letter from his parents saying they would be coming back to the United Kingdom for the holiday.

But plans had changed.

Silvan glanced at the long-necked glass bottle on the windowsill. Suspended motionlessly in the pale yellow resin inside was a "baseball bat" nearly two and a half feet long.

This was the wand shaft he had been working on for the past few days. Judging by its current state, it should soon be ready to meet the requirements for a wand shaft.

As for the core, Hagrid still wouldn't let Silvan take it out of the cabin. If he went home for Christmas, he would have to wait until school started again to find time to make this special wand.

Silvan didn't want to miss this rare holiday, so he signed his name on the list of students staying at school over Christmas.

"Silvan Ollivander, come to my office." After Potions Class, Snape said in a chilly voice.

Harry and his friends, who had nearly reached the door, stopped and turned to look at Silvan.

The awkwardness from a month ago had long since faded with time. Harry and Ron had been looking for a chance to talk to Silvan, and now they had one.

"What does he want with you?" Harry asked, sounding a little worried.

"Don't worry, I'm not getting detention," Silvan said. "Maybe the thing I applied for has been approved."

"You actually asked him to buy something for you?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Not yet... It's not buying something, it's an application. I asked Professor McGonagall," Silvan said. "It's a little complicated to explain. I'll go see him first. We'll meet in the Great Hall later."

After a few words, their relationship seemed to return to how it had been before, as if the minor disagreement a month ago had never happened.

"Okay, see you in the Great Hall later," Harry said, silently breathing a sigh of relief.

After leaving the classroom, Silvan followed Snape to his office.

Compared to the last time he had visited, almost nothing had changed, except that the Potions ingredients on the walls had been replaced.

"This is what you asked for." Snape took out a thumb-sized bottle and set it on the desk. Then he fixed Silvan with a blank stare and demanded, "Tell me, how did you know the school had Troll blood?"

"I heard it from Professor Quirrell," Silvan replied calmly, giving the excuse he had prepared in advance.

He just had to pin it on Quirrell. No matter how vehemently Quirrell denied it, Snape wouldn't believe him anyway.

Sure enough, the moment Snape heard Quirrell's name, his expression darkened. His brows knit together as if he had seen something disgusting.

"What do you need it for?" he continued.

"To make a wand," Silvan said.

"Liar!" Snape suddenly stepped closer, his black robes stirring up a cold draft. "I looked into it. You don't need Fantastic Beasts' blood to make a wand. You'd better tell me the truth!"

"I am telling you the truth." Silvan calmly met Snape's eyes. "If you don't believe me, you can ask Professor McGonagall. She already checked with my grandfather."

Silvan really wasn't lying. He had requested the Troll blood in advance as a precaution for the wand core, and had followed the proper procedure.

First, he wrote to his grandfather, Garrick Ollivander. Then his grandfather submitted an application on Silvan's behalf to Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House. Once Professor McGonagall approved it, she passed the request on to Snape.

The process was a bit convoluted and had taken several days, but the upside was that everything was entirely within the school rules.

Silvan was telling the truth, so he had no reason to feel nervous.

Snape stared into Silvan's eyes. Suddenly, his face went deathly pale. The veins in his temples bulged, and in less than a second, a sheen of fine sweat appeared on his brow.

The sudden change startled Silvan. Before he could say anything, Snape gave a sharp wave of his hand.

"Get out, get out!" he roared. The door flew open with a bang.

Looking at Snape, Silvan seemed to guess what had happened. He said nothing, quickly picked up the bottle from the desk, and turned to leave.

As soon as he stepped out of the office, the door slammed shut behind him, sending a thick cloud of dust drifting down.

Silvan stood in the corridor, thinking back on Snape's strange behavior. He raised an eyebrow without meaning to.

Snape hadn't just tried to use Legilimency on him, had he?

He hadn't felt anything, but judging by Snape's reaction, that was almost certainly what had happened.

Wizards thousands of years ago hadn't been as gentle as modern ones. That was reflected in the magic arrays they created, too.

If Occlumency was a curtain, then a magic array was a wasp's nest hanging from a tree. You couldn't just shamelessly climb on top and peer inside; even getting close would leave you covered in stings.

Snape had probably been stung.

Trying Legilimency on a student over a bottle of Troll blood that Professor McGonagall had approved for use?

Well, he deserved to get stung.

In Silvan's eyes, Snape's standing as a professor had plummeted.

But that didn't matter. As long as he was still willing to help buy things, he was still a good professor.

After leaving the Dungeon Classroom, Silvan found the corridor leading to the Entrance Hall unusually crowded. Students packed both sides, and more kept streaming in. They were all from Gryffindor and Slytherin.

One group was on the left, the other on the right. Their green and red scarves marked a clear divide as they argued furiously. Some had even taken out their wands.

As the crowd grew, the way ahead became completely blocked. Then Silvan realized that the entrance to the Dungeon Classroom where he stood was right beside the Slytherin side.

He looked up. All he could see ahead were silver-green scarves.

But there was still some distance between the Dungeon Classroom and the corridor, and the arguing was so loud that no one had noticed him yet.

A mass confrontation?

Silvan quietly pulled three wands from his pocket, wondering whether he should strike first.

After all, he was in a pretty good position. A sneak attack from behind could easily throw the Slytherins into disarray.

Otherwise, once they noticed him, he'd end up surrounded.

"What are you doing? Everyone, disperse at once!"

Professor McGonagall had arrived after hearing the commotion, with Hermione beside her.

Her lips were pressed tightly together. Everyone hurriedly shoved to either side, trying to get away from the most conspicuous spot.

But with so many people, it wasn't easy. Several students even fell over.

"Pointing your wands at your fellow students—do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and twenty from Slytherin!"

She looked furious, her voice trembling. "Prefects, take everyone back at once. If this happens again, the Quidditch Match between Gryffindor and Slytherin will be canceled!"