From morning to noon, and then to afternoon.
When Robert finally looked up, eight hours had already passed.
He had spent an entire eight hours fixing the wand—more exhausting than carving a new set from scratch. Fortunately, the results were worth the effort. The wand, once broken into three separate parts, was now whole again. The spiderweb-like cracks had completely vanished. A big reason for the success was the wand's original embedded repair charm, which significantly boosted Robert's efficiency throughout the restoration.
"Is it fixed?" Hagrid asked nervously.
He had stood motionless the entire time Robert worked, not moving an inch.
"Almost," Robert replied, pulling out a long-necked bottle filled with a shimmering green liquid and gently placing the wand inside.
"This is a Rejuvenation Potion. It promotes secondary growth in the wand's body, gradually healing the internal fractures. Combined with the original repair charm, your wand should be fully restored to its original state in about a week."
"Really?" Hagrid's eyes lit up. He carefully accepted the bottle from Robert's hands.
"Of course," Robert assured him. "If you need to use the wand during the week, you can. It won't affect the restoration, as long as you return it to the potion afterward."
"That's brilliant. I don't know how to thank you..."
"That's simple," Robert said with a smile. "Help me gather some magical creature materials from the Forbidden Forest."
He hadn't hidden his intentions—this was something he had wanted to do for a long time. He just hadn't gotten the chance to approach Hagrid until now.
"Certainly not a problem," Hagrid replied without hesitation. After fumbling through a pile of odds and ends, he pulled out a dirty cushion.
"How about this?"
A cushion... woven from Unicorn hair.
"Not Unicorn," Robert said, shaking his head and declining the offer.
His grandfather, Mr. Ollivander, had already determined that the finest wand core from a Unicorn came from a complete tail hair. Robert had the skill to twist other parts into a wand core, but there was no need.
All parts of the Unicorn came from the same magical creature, yes—but if the tail hair was a perfect 100 as wand core material, then twisted parts like flank hairs might only be a 70, or even lower.
Why waste time crafting a subpar wand when you could make a perfect one?
Unless Hagrid somehow managed to acquire a Unicorn heart—but even Mr. Ollivander had never succeeded in that. Unicorns dissolve into the earth soon after death, leaving nothing behind. Robert didn't expect much there.
Instead, he clearly laid out his requirements for Hagrid.
For Unicorns, he only wanted tail hair. For everything else—shells, scales, fur, teeth—he would take anything. It would be even better if they were from dead magical creatures.
Hagrid hesitated at that request.
"This is how wands are made," Robert said gently. "My grandfather spent ten years discovering the three wand cores that suited him best: Unicorn hair, Phoenix feather, and Dragon heartstring."
"Similarly, I must go through that same journey. I need to find the cores that suit me."
"But didn't Mr. Ollivander already find them?" Hagrid asked, puzzled. "Can't you just use his?"
"I could," Robert replied. "But then I'd never be able to become the top wand maker."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not my grandfather," Robert said simply. "Let me put it this way—back when my great-grandmother ran the wand shop, the most popular cores were Thunderbird feathers, Manticore stings, and Kelpie manes."
"Those can be wand cores too?" Hagrid asked in surprise.
"Of course," Robert replied. "Kelpie manes are excellent for Transformation magic, and Manticore stings are incredible for dark magic casting. But my grandfather didn't like those. He always said Kelpie manes smelled too much like seaweed."
Hagrid listened with growing interest. He had never imagined that the Ollivander family had such a rich and unique history.
He'd always assumed that the thousands of wands in the Diagon Alley shop were just passed down in tradition.
"So, you're also trying to find your own wand core?" Hagrid asked, beginning to understand.
"You could say that," Robert nodded, after a moment's hesitation.
His case was a bit different. Strictly speaking, he wasn't a traditional wandmaker. None of his ancestors—including his grandfather, great-grandmother, or anyone going back centuries—had ever stuffed a toad's tongue into a wand core.
That meant Robert had far more freedom to experiment—and he needed to start preparing as early as possible.
The Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts was a promising place. And with Hagrid's help, he wouldn't have to worry about the dangers lurking within. It was a win-win situation.
That evening, Robert finally left Hagrid's wooden hut.
Hagrid had agreed to the request and even promised to help locate a Bowtruckle nest. After all, once the wand core was settled, the wand body materials couldn't be neglected either. And these tasks were easy for Hagrid, who could collect what Robert needed while patrolling the forest.
However, Hagrid warned him firmly and repeatedly: Robert must never sneak into the Forbidden Forest alone. If he did, Hagrid would stop helping him altogether.
Robert readily agreed.
He was only a first-year student, after all. He wasn't insane enough to venture into the Forbidden Forest alone. Far safer to let Hagrid handle it.
By the time Robert returned to the castle, it was just in time for dinner.
Since it was the first weekend after term had begun, the Great Hall was bustling with excitement. Even Dumbledore was present, seated at the staff table and engaged in cheerful conversation with Snape beside him.
Further down the table sat Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout from Herbology.
"Hey, Robert..."
Harry waved enthusiastically from a distance. "Where've you been? We looked for you all day."
"I was at Hagrid's," Robert replied. "Remember? I had to help him fix something."
"Hagrid..." Harry paused, then cast a quick glance at Ron.
Ron was already looking at him.
When their eyes met, both immediately looked away.
They were terrible at hiding things. Even Neville would've picked up on how suspicious they looked right now.
But since Harry didn't say anything, Robert didn't pry.
He wasn't particularly interested in whatever secrets surrounded the "Boy Who Lived" right now. He had more pressing matters.
Dinner was much more lavish than usual. Creamy corn soup, thick fried steaks—it all smelled delicious and tasted even better.
Next to him, Harry and Ron were in the middle of a discussion about Draco Malfoy from Slytherin. Robert half-listened and quickly gathered that the two had run into Malfoy in the corridor earlier and exchanged a few heated words.
Ron eventually asked for Robert's opinion, but Robert didn't respond.
In truth, ever since he had been sorted into Gryffindor, Malfoy had rapidly lost interest in him. They hadn't exchanged a single word since.
Still, one mystery remained.
Why hadn't Malfoy asked for his deposit back?
Malfoy had paid a thirty-Galleon deposit for a color-changing spray while on the boat ride to Hogwarts. He hadn't canceled the order, nor paid the remaining balance. It was as if he'd completely forgotten about it.
Robert wasn't in any rush.
And if he wasn't, Robert certainly wasn't either.
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