Perhaps due to the shared experience of losing house points, after Halloween, Harry, Hermione, and Ron began spending a lot more time together.
Although Ron and Hermione still had occasional spats, their relationship wasn't inseparable, but it was definitely close.
At the very least, after Halloween, the three of them were always seen sitting together in class.
The trio was beginning to take shape.
Robert found this development quite magical.
He couldn't say for sure whether it was the guidance of fate, but despite some deviations in the process, Harry still found his "external brain" in the end.
As for what happened in the room on the Fourth Floor that day...
Robert thought the school would at least conduct a symbolic investigation. But no—there was nothing.
It was as though the professors had all agreed in advance to remain silent.
Any questions about Fluffy or the troll were dismissed with a single explanation: Peeves's prank.
Even when students asked directly, that was the only answer they got.
The whole incident was treated as if it had never happened.
Well, except for Quirrell.
He had taken several days off and didn't show up for class.
Snape filled in during his absence.
According to him,
"Your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was scared witless by a prank; he needs rest."
His tone brimmed with disdain and contempt for Quirrell.
Snape seemed to be in an unusually good mood and even cracked the occasional joke about Quirrell in class.
Harry, however, was not amused.
Snape's dislike for Harry hadn't changed because of the switch in subjects; if anything, it had intensified.
If Defence Against the Dark Arts needed a lab assistant, Snape would 100% pick Harry.
Even when the textbook didn't require it, Snape would invent reasons to single him out.
Every morning, the first thing Harry did was check his timetable.
If he saw either Defence Against the Dark Arts or Potions, he would spend five minutes cursing Snape before dragging himself through the rest of the day.
In a strange way, Harry was probably the only student in all of Hogwarts who genuinely wanted Quirrell to recover quickly.
Because as much as Snape targeted him, most students agreed his classes were far more interesting than Quirrell's.
Quirrell's classes were often dry and unengaging.
Harry's wish seemed to be granted.
By the second week, Quirrell returned to Hogwarts Castle.
But something about him was even weirder than before.
Most noticeably, his smell.
He had always smelled of garlic.
Now, that scent was mixed with the distinct reek of rotten onions.
"This is knowledge I learned from a wizarding tribe," he explained in class.
"This smell can ward off multi-headed magical creatures."
Robert had every reason to believe that the "multi-headed magical creatures" referred to Fluffy.
Harry had already told him what happened that day.
He didn't go into every detail, but the part involving Quirrell was clear enough.
To put it simply, Quirrell had been terrified—so much so that he vomited all the way from the Fourth Floor to the Hospital Wing.
In a weird way, that kind of extended vomiting might even be considered a special talent.
Quirrell himself never admitted it.
He just mumbled vague phrases to brush it off.
When Ron eagerly asked what had really happened, Quirrell's face turned beet red.
He stammered and rambled on with nonsense phrases like "care and prevention of magical creatures" and "even guard against colleagues."
He then diverted to talk about the weather and the onions in the school kitchen.
The class erupted into laughter.
The cheerful atmosphere didn't, however, change the reality that Defence Against the Dark Arts had once again become unbearably boring.
As the days passed, November arrived at Hogwarts.
The weather turned colder, and most students switched to heavier robes and thick cloaks.
Harry, in particular, had been quite busy lately.
The Quidditch season had officially begun, and practices were held three times a week, each session lasting over two hours.
As a complete novice, Harry had to train even more intensely.
He was out early and came back late every day.
Thankfully, first-year students didn't have too many classes, and Harry managed to finish his homework in between practices—provided Hermione helped him.
Harry was now endlessly grateful to have Hermione as a friend.
When faced with the temptation of completed homework, he had no hesitation abandoning Ron in favor of studying with Hermione.
Ron was bitter about it for days—until one afternoon, Harry secretly placed the revised homework Hermione had helped him with in front of Ron.
After that, Ron gave up fighting it.
With dramatic flair, he raised his hands in surrender and accepted Hermione's help.
Yes, her personality could be annoying, but if she was willing to solve the mountain of homework, then she was undeniably the most popular witch in all of Hogwarts.
Robert didn't join the now-formed trio.
Over the past few days, he had been preoccupied with ordering wand materials through the school owls using private channels.
Initially, he had wanted to rely on his grandfather—Ollivander—for help.
It would have been cheaper and easier.
But the owl he sent couldn't even find him.
The owl, which he had hired with three nuts, flew around aimlessly and returned with the letter untouched.
It hadn't found Ollivander.
Robert wasn't particularly surprised.
Ever since he had mailed out the wand with the Red Cap nerve core, his grandfather had been acting strangely.
He'd sent back blank parchment three times in a row—no invisible ink, no secret message—just completely blank sheets.
From Wednesday to Friday, Robert received a parchment each morning, all devoid of a single word.
After that, Ollivander disappeared entirely.
No one knew where he'd gone.
Even owls couldn't track him.
With no other choice, Robert reluctantly spent his own money to buy the materials.
Fortunately, they weren't too expensive.
Malfoy's earlier deposit helped ease the financial strain.
Incidentally, Malfoy still hadn't come to him, as if he'd forgotten about the whole deal.
And then came the long wait.
Finally, a few days later—around midday—Robert received the package he had been eagerly waiting for.
At the time, he was chatting with Hagrid near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Over the past few days, Hagrid had collected quite a stash of rare items: five Unicorn tail hairs, several Centaur tail hairs, a small bundle of Hippogriff feathers, and three spider legs each two feet long.
Looking at the valuable materials, Robert suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
Had he gone too far that day—blasting Fluffy's mouth with his wand?
Then, a package landed squarely on his shoulder.
A dusty grey owl dropped a brown paper parcel on him and flew off without so much as a backward glance.
Its service attitude was atrocious.
Robert rubbed his shoulder, unfazed.
He wasn't expecting a thank-you note.
It was already rare enough that the merchants from Knockturn Alley actually delivered the goods after being paid.
He didn't care about customer service.
"Such a big package—what'd you buy?" Hagrid asked curiously.
"Doggy Shut-Up Stick…" Robert blurted out without thinking.
"What?"
"Ah, nothing."
He quickly waved his hands.
"I have to head back now. I'll come visit again this weekend."
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