Conflict

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

Silvan's original plan was to return to Diagon Alley for Christmas, because a month ago he had received a letter from his parents stating that they would be returning to the United Kingdom for the holidays.

But now, the plan had changed.

Silvan glanced at the long-necked glass bottle on the windowsill, where a "baseball bat" about two and a half feet long floated silently amidst the pale yellow resin.

This was the wand shaft he had been crafting for the past few days; judging by its current state, it should soon meet the standards for a finished shaft.

Then there was the wand core. Hagrid still wouldn't allow Silvan to take that item out of the hut, so if he went home for Christmas, he would have to wait until after the term started to find time to craft this special wand.

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

"Silvan Ollivander, come to my office." After Potions class ended, Snape said in an icy tone.

Harry and his two friends, who were already near the door, stopped in their tracks and turned to look at Silvan.

The minor tension from a month ago had long since washed away with time. Harry and Ron had been looking for a chance to say something to Silvan, and this was the perfect opportunity.

"Why is he looking for you?" Harry asked, his tone laced with concern.

"Don't worry, it's not detention," Silvan said. "It's probably because the items I requested were approved."

"You actually asked him to buy things for you?" Ron looked surprised.

"Not yet... it's not buying, it's a request. I went through Professor McGonagall," Silvan explained. "It's hard to explain in a few words. I'll head over now, see you in the Great Hall later."

After a few words, their relationship seemed to return to how it was before, as if the minor friction from a month ago had never existed.

"Alright, see you in the Great Hall," Harry said, feeling a secret sense of relief.

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

Compared to his last visit, nothing had changed, except that the potion ingredients on the walls had been replaced with a new batch.

"This is what you wanted." Snape placed a thumb-sized bottle on the desk, staring at Silvan with an expressionless face as he interrogated him:

"Tell me, how did you know the school had troll blood?"

"I heard it from Professor Quirrell," Silvan said, his face calm as he recited the excuse he had prepared long ago.

He only needed to push the matter onto Quirrell; regardless of how vehemently Quirrell denied it, Snape wouldn't believe him anyway.

Sure enough, upon hearing Quirrell's name, Snape's expression darkened instantly, his brows furrowed as if he had seen something repulsive.

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

"To craft a wand," Silvan said.

"Liar!" Snape suddenly leaned in, his black cloak whipping up a cold gust of wind. "I have looked into it; crafting a wand does not require the blood of magical creatures. You had better tell the truth!"

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

Silvan was indeed not lying. This bottle of troll blood was something he had prepared in advance for the wand core just in case, and he had followed the proper procedures.

He had first written to his grandfather, Garrick Ollivander, who then submitted the request on Silvan's behalf to the Head of Gryffindor, Minerva McGonagall. Once Professor McGonagall approved it, she passed it on to Snape.

Going through such a roundabout process was a bit tedious and took several days, but the benefit was that it was entirely in accordance with school rules.

Since Silvan was telling the truth, he felt no guilt whatsoever.

Snape stared into Silvan's eyes. Suddenly, his face turned deathly pale, the veins on his forehead bulged, and in less than a second, a fine layer of sweat broke out on his skin.

This sudden change startled Silvan. Before he could say anything, he saw Snape wave his hand forcefully.

"Get out, get out!" he hissed, and the door swung open with a bang.

Watching Snape's reaction, Silvan seemed to guess what had happened. He didn't say a word, quickly grabbed the bottle from the desk, and turned to leave.

The moment he left the office, the door slammed shut again, shaking a large cloud of dust from the ceiling.

Silvan stood in the corridor, recalling Snape's strange behavior, and subconsciously raised an eyebrow.

Snape didn't... try to use Legilimency on him, did he?

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

The mages of thousands of years ago were not as gentle as the wizards of today, and this was reflected in the magic arrays they created.

If Occlumency was a curtain, then the magic array was a hornet's nest hanging in a tree. Never mind peeking inside recklessly; even getting close would result in being stung all over.

Snape had likely been stung.

Using Legilimency on a student because of a bottle of troll blood approved by Professor McGonagall?

Heh, then he truly deserved the stings.

Snape's image as a professor plummeted in Silvan's mind.

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

Silvan left the dungeons and found the corridor leading to the entrance hall exceptionally crowded. Not only was it packed with students on both sides, but more were pouring in—all from Gryffindor and Slytherin.

One side was on the left, the other on the right. The green and red scarves were clearly divided, and they were arguing fiercely; some had even drawn their wands.

As the crowd grew, the path ahead was completely blocked. Silvan suddenly realized that the entrance to the dungeon he was standing at was right on the Slytherin side.

Looking up, he saw nothing but silver and green scarves ahead.

However, because there was still some distance between the dungeon entrance and the corridor, and the noise of the argument was so loud, no one had noticed him yet.

A collective conflict?

Silvan silently pulled three wands from his pocket, hesitating whether to strike first.

After all, his position was quite advantageous. A sneak attack from behind could easily throw the Slytherin ranks into chaos.

Otherwise, once the Slytherins noticed him, he would face the prospect of being surrounded.

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

Just as Silvan was hesitating about whom to strike, Professor McGonagall, who had heard the commotion, arrived with Hermione in tow.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. Everyone immediately scrambled to push to the sides, trying to distance themselves from the most conspicuous spots.

However, because there were so many people, doing so wasn't easy, and several students tripped and fell.

"Pointing your wands at your fellow students? Do you have any idea what you are doing?"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin each!"

She looked furious, her voice trembling. "Now, prefects, take your people back immediately. If there is a next time, the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin will be cancelled!"