After stepping out of the Castle, it was already very dark.
When Robert quickened his pace and arrived near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he saw Hagrid standing from a distance, gesturing animatedly toward the woods.
"Go away, you bad fellow, go away quickly!"
He seemed to be driving away some kind of creature.
"Hagrid,"
Robert walked over and called out to him.
"Robert?"
Hagrid turned his head, looking a bit surprised.
"You shouldn't be leaving the Castle this late—hurry back."
"I came specifically to find you this time," Robert said.
"Find me?"
"Professor Snape wants you to go to his office," Robert explained.
"Do you have time now?"
"Ah, of course, I've been waiting for a while," Hagrid said, looking unsurprised, almost as if he'd known this visit was coming.
"You wait here first—we'll go back together."
Hagrid instructed Robert, then went inside his hut to change into his mole-skin coat.
"I thought Professor Snape would send that old good-for-nothing Filch to find me. Why'd he send you instead?"
The sound came from inside the wooden house.
"Maybe I just happened to be in his office," Robert replied.
"What were you doing just now?"
"Chasing a cat," Robert said.
Hagrid came back out, taking the oil lamp hanging by the door.
"We met it in the Forbidden Forest. Fang just barked at it, and it scratched him—then that beast chased us out and almost bit off Fang's ear."
As if sensing Hagrid was about to leave, a sudden, urgent whimper and scratching came from inside the house. Through the crack in the door, Robert could vaguely make out a large black dog—it looked like a Newfoundland, or maybe a Neapolitan Mastiff; it was hard to see clearly through the gap.
"Don't let its fierce look fool you. It's actually a coward... Calm down, Fang, calm down. I'll be back soon."
Hagrid spent quite some time comforting the dog before he could manage to close the door tightly. He double-checked for gaps before stepping down onto the stone path to return to the Castle with Robert.
At this point, Robert wore a slightly odd expression. His eyes wandered, avoiding Hagrid's gaze. Speaking of which, it had been a while since he'd seen his pet, Tom. That familiar, vengeful style—the one that had terrified Fang—couldn't possibly be... No, it definitely wasn't Tom.
Robert shook his head. No matter how timid Fang was, he was still huge. Tom, even if he stood on two legs, wasn't even as tall as one of Fang's. There was no way he could scare him like that. Impossible. The one chasing and biting Fang must've been a Flobberworm living in the Forbidden Forest.
Robert felt a little guilty.
Seeing that Hagrid was still grumbling about the creature that had bullied Fang, he quickly changed the subject:
"Hagrid, what does Professor Snape want to see you about? Did it have to be this late? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow morning?"
"That bad cat... Oh. Professor Snape said the same thing. But I think if we wait until morning, students might see it. Night is the best time."
Hagrid blurted it out without thinking. But Robert's interruption had distracted him from the cat, and now he subconsciously lifted his mole-skin coat and gestured toward it.
"That bone's too long—there's no way to completely cover it. And it'd be a shame to break it."
Listening to Hagrid muttering to himself, Robert frowned slightly and fell into thought.
A bone?
The one behind Snape's desk?
But why would there be a bone in Snape's office? And that wooden stick behind the door…
At that thought, Robert paused, as if he had uncovered a hidden truth.
It was the Troll. The one Quirrell had let into the Castle on Halloween. The one later locked up near Fluffy!
That dim-witted Troll must've encountered an angry, injured Fluffy. The outcome? Obvious. It likely became a snack.
And what happened to the Troll's body?
Magical creatures like that were valuable. The school wouldn't have just thrown it away. They wouldn't have given it back to Quirrell, either.
The answer was clear—Snape had taken it.
Thinking carefully, Robert remembered all the bizarre potion ingredients in Snape's office. They likely came from the Troll.
The bones, though, were too hard to cut or grind, making them mostly useless in potions. But they were perfect for Hagrid to handle.
Robert's eyes lit up with understanding.
If that were true, it explained everything—why the Troll's club was in Snape's office and why Hagrid had to come at night.
Carrying bones around during the day would definitely frighten the students. Not ideal.
Robert looked up suddenly and said, "Hagrid…"
"What's wrong?" Hagrid asked.
"No, nothing," Robert replied after a pause.
"I mean… we've arrived."
They had walked up the stone steps and re-entered the Castle.
"Then you should hurry back to the dormitory," Hagrid said casually.
Robert didn't respond, and he didn't return to the dormitory either. He stood in place.
The nights in November were bitterly cold. Even the candles lining the entrance hall seemed to burn without warmth.
Robert soon ran into Filch. Though the caretaker was clearly annoyed by students wandering around at night, curfew hadn't started yet. He couldn't do anything to Robert, only glare at him with a sour expression.
Robert suddenly missed Tom. He didn't know where that mischievous cat had run off to enjoy itself. Next time, he'd have to let Tom "chat" with Mrs. Norris and exchange a few feelings.
So the two—Robert and Filch—stood there, staring each other down for a few minutes.
Finally, Hagrid emerged from the staircase.
He was carrying a large bag slung over his back, held a massive wooden club in one hand, and carried something else in the other—covered by a large sheet, concealing whatever was underneath.
"Robert, why are you still here?"
Hagrid walked over and saw Filch skulking in the corner.
His face soured.
"Go away already. Robert hasn't broken any school rules."
Hagrid's tone was openly hostile, as if chasing away a pest.
"I'll be watching you," Filch muttered bitterly before stomping off.
"Don't be afraid. That old good-for-nothing doesn't dare to do anything," Hagrid said.
Robert waved a hand, barely listening. His eyes were locked on the sheet in Hagrid's hand.
"Hagrid, those aren't Troll bones, are they?"
"That's right—"
Hagrid started but immediately stopped mid-sentence.
"How did you—No, I mean, that's not something you should be asking about. Hurry back to the dormitory."
Of course, Robert had no intention of leaving. He hadn't stayed just to see Hagrid scold Filch.
"Where are you taking them?" he asked.
"I can't tell you… Alright? I've got work to do. Stop asking."
Hagrid put on a stern face and turned to leave the Castle.
As he turned, the wind blew the sheet in his hand slightly open, revealing a glimpse of white bone beneath.
Judging from the length of the sheet, the bone was at least five feet long, thick like a python under the moonlight.
Robert's eyes immediately gleamed like searchlights cutting through the darkness, and the corners of his mouth twitched as if about to drool.
Good stuff—this was good stuff!
Snape, that wasteful fool, that clumsy potion-brewer—he was just going to throw out a treasure like this?
Slurp…
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